Think Twice
by Soldier 24601
Summary: After Voldemort's rebirth, Ginny Weasley's fourth year brings with it an onslaught of nightmares as Tom Riddle seeks to satisfy the obsession he developed with her mind in the Chamber of Secrets. Suddenly she finds herself in a world she cannot control.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Horrified, she swatted at the feathers, feeling them prick her skin. Blood pooled on her blanket and she let out a small scream as she attempted to wipe it off of her. But the harder she tried, the more hopelessly covered in blood and chicken feathers she became. Revolted, tears stained her cheeks and splashed onto her hands, failing to wash away the imagined crimson and white.

After Voldemort's rebirth, Ginny Weasley's fourth year brings with it an onslaught of nightmares as Tom Riddle seeks to satisfy the obsession he developed with her mind in the Chamber of Secrets. Will Harry be able to save her from totally losing her mind to Voldemort or will he be too late? AU version of OotP and HBP. Full summary inside.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; not the plot, not the setting, not the characters. I'm just making a few changes. You should be able to recognize them. =D

A/N: Hey guys! I'm back with my second fic! For those of you that read Diary of James (Yes, I'm still working on it. I'm just suffering from a little bit of writer's block), I dedicate this story to you. Without your reviews I would never have gotten this far. If you're a new reader, I hope you enjoy! Please read and review, that's all I can ask.

Chapter 1

The Scarlet Hogwarts Express spewed charcoal colored smoke into the air, its wheel's squeaking shrilly, its whistle beckoning the students inside. It was time to go home. Summer Break was starting and the chatter at the Hogsmead platform was so loud and boisterous that conversation was restricted to the simple, "Have a great summer" or, "Promise you'll write." But inside the brilliant red train, the sound of the prattling students was muffled to little more than a buzz. It was almost irritating, especially to Ginny Weasley who sat alone by the window, watching as her classmates said their good-byes. The reason she sat alone was not entirely by choice. The circumstances of that year had left her virtually friendless and entirely too self-conscience to attempt making friends anew. Seeing others happily planning meetings with their friends over the summer was almost too much for her.

A tear trickled down her cheek.

It wasn't that she minded being alone, because she didn't. What bothered her was _why _she was alone. At the beginning of the year she'd been alone, but in an entirely different way. She'd come to Hogwarts with a diary in her pocket, her confidant and only friend. Now, at the end of the year, she had no friends and no diary, though she was grateful for the latter. Perhaps she was alone, but that meant the Tom could no longer bother her. At least not during the day. At night, she was still haunted by memories of the Chamber of Secrets and Tom Riddle's face often swam in front of her, that deceptive smile playing at the corners of his mouth. She shivered at the thought.

"Last call boys and girls! Last call!" shouted the Engineer, his voice magically magnified to be heard over the noise of the crowd. "All aboard!"

The slow trickle of students entering the train suddenly magnified to a flood of boys and girls, bringing with them the racket of the platform. Several of them looked into Ginny's compartment hopefully, then turned away quickly when they saw its occupant, muttering conspiratorially. No one really knew Ginny's true connection to the Chamber (other than a handful of teachers, her family, and her brother's best friends, Harry and Hermione) but many rumors concerning her and her kidnapping were floating around, some of which were almost worse than the truth.

After a few minutes, the Trio walked past Ginny's compartment, pushed on by the crowd. Hermione glanced in through the window and did a double take when she noticed who was inside. She grabbed hold of Ron's arm and yanked him back towards the door. He looked like he was about to argue when he too noticed his sister. Throwing open the door, he put on a huge smile and said, "Hey Gin! You mind if we sit with you?"

Ginny shook her head and forced a smile as well. The three friends squeezed into the compartment, dragging their trunks behind them. Ron sat down beside her and Hermione settled down opposite them. Next to her sat Harry and Ginny's heart began to race as she looked at him. From the first moment she'd seen him, Ginny had started to develop a very girlish crush for the Boy Who Lived. At first it had been because he was who he was, Harry Potter. But now…now that he'd saved her life, that he'd risked everything to rescue her, her feelings were far less shallow. She, of course, knew better than to get her hopes up. Harry was a hero, and as such saw it his duty to save her. Not to mention the fact that she was his best friend's sister. She really didn't think he could have developed any sort of attachment to her that would have fuelled his desire to save her.

A little more time passed and the twins joined them. The rest of the train ride was spent playing Exploding Snap and chatting, rather loudly Ginny thought, about the more pleasant aspects of the past year. The past several nights of disturbed sleep finally caught up with Ginny about half-way to King's Cross and she drifted off to sleep, to the sound of Fred and George's boisterous jokes.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ginny's eyes snapped open. A long moment passed as she tried to catch her breath, her mind still filled with images from her dream. Why on earth was she dreaming about the Chamber _now_? It had been three whole years since she'd last heard Tom's voice, or seen his face, or even thought about him as anything other than Voldemort. And yet here she was, dreaming about him. She shivered as the sound of his laugh echoed in her ears.

She sat up, looking around at her companions. Neville sat opposite her, stroking his new _Minbulus_ _mimbletonia_ with one hand and clutching his toad Trevor as tightly as possible with the other. Next to him sat Luna Lovegood, a Ravenclaw in Ginny's year. She was a pretty sort of girl with long, wavy blonde hair and pale blue eyes. But she was also extremely odd. At the moment she was reading the magazine her father printed, _The Quibler_, upside-down while wearing a pair of "spector specs." Neville seemed slightly awkward sitting next to her and Ginny couldn't entirely blame him. Luna was sweet and extremely nice, but she was strange to say the least and tended to say whatever was on her mind which was usually brutally honest.

Ron and Hermione were currently out doing rounds, their new Prefect duty on the Hogwarts Express, and would probably be back sometime soon. The only other person in the compartment was Harry, who sat by the window next to Neville, looking dejectedly out at the farms that were flicking past the train. Ginny sighed heavily as she looked at him. He'd been extremely moody of late, worried by the sudden onslaught of dreams he'd been having since Voldemort's rebirth at the end of last year. This bothered Ginny quite a bit, especially since her dreams had started just recently as well. Somehow, that didn't seem like a coincidence. Harry was dreaming about Voledemort, she was dreaming about Tom Riddle….No, it had to be a coincidence. His dreams were about last year, about his only true enemy coming back to life. That was reasonable. If she were Harry, she'd be having those dreams too. But she was dreaming about something that happened three years ago, something she'd been ignoring for a long, long time. How was it that she was suddenly being thrust back into memories of that awful first year?

Harry frowned suddenly, sensing Ginny's eyes on him. He turned around, glaring in her direction. She shifted awkwardly in her seat, looking down at the floor and trying to seem bored.

A few minutes later, Ron and Hermione joined the group and Ginny forced herself to enter into the conversation again, pulling herself out of her thoughts. It was frustrating to sit there, unable to explain to anyone about what she was currently going through. Not that it mattered. At the end of her first year, she was friendless but now she was not. The difference was, she'd gotten used to being alone and keeping things to herself so she could go on like this forever, hiding her dreams and her secrets. Her fake smile lasted the whole way to Hogwarts.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; not the plot, not the setting, not the characters. I'm just making a few changes. You should be able to recognize them. =D

A/N: Hey guys! Hope you like this so far. Please read and review. I'll accept all constructive criticism, but please no flames.

Chapter 2

Hogwarts felt different this year. More whispered conversations in Harry's direction that was for sure. But that wasn't a big surprise. He always had people talking about him behind his back. No, this year nobody bothered stopping the conversation when he came in the room. People openly pointed at him and talked about him in his presence. Maybe he preferred that though. At least he knew what they were saying. Not that he liked having everybody call him crazy--another thing that was new about Hogwarts this year--he just would rather have them say right out so he could defend himself than have them hold whispered discussions that had questionable topics.

There were changes in staff this year too. Dolores Jane Umbridge was not exactly what Harry considered top quality teaching. But what was worst about the new Defense teacher was not her lack of interesting teaching techniques. It was her down right, unabashed, completely _wrong_ belief that he and Dumbledore were trying to bring down the Ministry of Magic. Her insufferable idea that he was a liar, that Voldemort was not at large. He could handle that, he supposed, but he wasn't pleased; not at all.

It was early, 4:52 AM. Harry was exhausted, but he'd gotten used to little sleep. He'd been dreaming again, having the same stupid nightmares. Cedric's death, Voldemort's rebirth, his parent's short but life changing visit all kept popping up in his mind while he slept. Not like there weren't plenty of other reminder's of last year's encounter with the Dark Lord. The long white scar that had formed on Harry's left arm where Wormtail's silver knife had forcefully taken his blood to revive Voldemort was just one.

He sighed, rolling from his side onto his back, staring up at the canopy of his four-poster. At least _this_ never changed, he thought. This room had been the same since he first got to Hogwarts. It was the only thing that could remain comfortably stable. Once upon a time he'd thought that all of Hogwarts was that way, but not anymore. Someday he hoped to see his school back the way it once was. If there was anything he could do to make that happen, he'd do it.

Actually, there was one other thing that never changed about Hogwarts. Ron and Hermione. Sure they were teenagers and naturally that meant they'd be growing up and therefore changing, but they were still his friends. Even last year when Harry was sure he and Ron would never speak to each other again, and even during the countless times that Hermione and Ron had gotten into some ridiculous spat, in the end they always ended up being friends again. And what mattered most was the fact that they were always around when he needed them most. During his first year, they'd gone to find the Sorcerer's Stone with him. Then, in the Chamber of Secrets, Hermione had come up with the final information about the Basilisk, and Ron had gone with Harry despite his fears. And in his third year, they'd helped him save his godfather. The list went on and on.

Sitting up, Harry yawned and stretched. No use trying to go to bed. He'd take a shower, get dressed, maybe do some homework in the Common Room. Not that he had that much to do after only four days of school. But the work load would get a lot worse later on so, as Hermione would say, the habit would be a good one to get into. Jeez, she really was rubbing off on him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

At 4:52 AM Ginny was lying awake in her dormitory, too, and for a very similar reason.

But unlike Harry, she wasn't used to being up at odd hours because of her nightmares. She rolled over and attempted falling asleep again, which wasn't the best idea. For some time she tossed and turned, trying to clear her mind of the images that had woken her up. Every time she closed her eyes the dreams returned, though, and at about 5:47 AM, she gave up.

Tying on her bathrobe and sliding her feet into her slippers, she headed to the bathroom. She took a very long shower, using the hot water to wash away the frustrating thoughts that still plagued her. As she pulled back on her dressing gown, her wet hair sticking to her face and neck and dripping all over her shoulders, she paused to look in the mirror. Dark circles under her eyes showed the lack of sleep she'd suddenly been suffering from. She also looked thin--somewhat gaunt. Her appetite had taken an odd turn. Most of her meals went untouched, and if not then at least most of the plate remained full when she was done. This really bothered Ron, when he took the time to notice. He ate so much and so fast that the concept of anyone doing otherwise was inconceivable in his mind. And of late he'd taken to checking up on Ginny more often. Possibly because she was becoming a very pretty young woman that a good deal of boys--from all houses--were interested in.

Shaking her head, she turned away from her reflection. She brushed her hair and teeth and then made her way back to the girl's dormitory.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; not the plot, not the setting, not the characters. I'm just making a few changes. You should be able to recognize them. =D

A/N: Hey guys! Thanks to all who've stuck with me thus far. I hope you like it. I know that at this point it's a little confusing and not particularly exciting, but I'm getting there, I promise.

Chapter 3

"Miss Weasley? Miss Weasley!"

"Huh?" Ginny said, snapping awake. She looked around her stupidly, trying to remember where she was. Her eyes caught scanned the rows of students to her left, passed to her right, and then returned to directly in front of her. Standing there, hands on hips, tight gray bun, square glasses and all, was Professor McGonagall.

"I'll have you know, Miss Weasley that I do not think of myself as a particularly boring teacher," McGonagall said, tight-lipped. The class tittered. "If I've been dull enough to put you to sleep I apologize, but I'll have you know that I will not tolerate such actions in my class, even if there are partially my fault."

"I-I'm sorry, Professor," Ginny squeaked. "I didn't mean to--"

"See me after class, please," McGonagall cut her off shortly. "Now," she continued, turning around and walking back to the chalkboard, "as I was saying: Turning a wallet into a compact mirror is trickier than you might imagine…"

Ginny sighed and rubbed her eyes. Never, _never_ before had she fallen asleep in class. It wasn't like her. No matter how boring, no matter how tired, she'd always managed to stay awake, even in Binn's class. Well, she was _mostly_ awake in Binn's class. She couldn't help but blush at the thought of being berated in class by McGonagall. It was humiliating, and she hated herself for letting her limited amount of sleep catch up with her.

And yet, throughout the remainder of the class, she continued to struggle against heavy eyelids and continual yawns. This had happened all day, not just in Transfiguration. In none of her other classes had she fallen asleep, but she was drowsy that whole day and was constantly forcing herself to stay focused and alert. It was a losing battle.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the bell rang and class ended. Everyone stood quickly and began to pack up. Ginny followed suit, but instead of following everyone to dinner, she walked over to Professor McGonagall's desk where the stern older woman sat, watching her. As she approached McGonagall, Ginny felt her cheeks once again turn red. She wasn't looking forward to being chastised.

"Have a seat, Miss Weasley," McGonagall said simply. "I hope you don't mind being late for dinner."

"No, Professor," Ginny answered quietly.

McGonagall frowned, placing her hands on the desk, her fingers laced together. "May I ask why you fell asleep in class today?" She asked as much as commanded.

Ginny squirmed in her seat. To say that she was simply tired was a very poor excuse and might be taken as cheek, but she certainly didn't want McGonagall to know about her nightmares.

"I want to help you, Ginny," the older woman said a tad more gently. "Not punish you. I know you wouldn't fall asleep in class--any class--if you didn't have a good reason."

Ginny still hesitated. "It's…" she started slowly "a personal reason, Professor. I haven't been sleeping well lately."

That didn't sound exactly how she would have liked it too. In fact, she wished she hadn't said anything at all. _Personal reasons?_

"Hmmm," McGonagall said. "I trust that you're not hurt? Or ill?"

Ginny shook her head.

"Is there nothing I can do to help?" the professor continued.

"No, ma'am."

McGonagall sighed. "Then I'll let you go. But, mind you, if this behavior continues I'll need a more satisfactory answer."

"Yes, ma'am," Ginny said, nodding quickly.

"Go get some dinner," the older woman commanded.

Ginny stood up, grabbing her bag as she went, and hurried out the door.

McGonagall watch as the young woman left the room, frowning to herself. She thought very highly of Ginny and would hate to see the poor girl in any sort of trouble, but if she wouldn't let McGonagall in on whatever problems she was having, there was nothing more the professor could do.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ginny settled in beside Hermione at dinner, smiling positively when the older girl gave her a concerned look. She frowned as she looked at the piles and piles of food around her. Not that it didn't look appetizing, but every time she started to eat she always seemed to realize she wasn't all that hungry. She hated to waste anything, so she finally decided on taking a very small portion: a roll and a little of some corn casserole. Hermione noticed this too, as did Ron.

"Jeez, Ginny!" he said in shock. "I don't think a person can live off of that little. Are you going anorexic? Don't, it's not worth it!"

Ginny giggled and shook her head. "No, I'm not anorexic. I'm just not hungry right now. Maybe in the morning…."

"But you haven't been eating more than that for days, Ginny," Hermione pointed out, looking extremely anxious at the mention of Ginny as anorexic.

"Yeah," Ron said, leaping at the new argument quickly. "You're starting to bother me with all this."

"Do you need something?" Hermione asked, touching Ginny's arm. "You could go to Madam Pomfrey for some sort of potion or something. I read about one that can increase your appetite if you're--"

"Ugh, Hermione! No!" Harry said suddenly, making Ginny jump slightly. She turned to look at him in confusion. Was he defending her? "You can't force her to eat. That's just wrong. You might as well tie her down a force feed her." He was frowning, staring at Ginny's plate. "She has every right to eat whatever she wants."

"Thank you, Harry," she said softly, surprised and touched by the action. Of course, it probably meant nothing, but Ginny had only recently been able to be in the same room as Harry let alone talk to him.

But Hermione practically cut her off. "I notice you've hardly touched your food," she said pointedly glaring at Harry's plate.

"So?"

"So," she said sternly, "the two of you have been acting extremely odd of late and it's starting to scare me and Ron--"

"Leave me out of it," mumbled Ron through a mouthful of potatoes.

"And we just want to help you," Hermione continued, sending Ron a threatening glare, which only made him shrug defensively.

"Well, you don't have to," Harry said firmly. "At least you don't have to worry about me."

"Or me," Ginny added quickly.

Harry nodded as if to put extra emphasis on the point. "See? We're both fine, no need to fret."

"Well I'm sorry if I seemed overbearing!" Hermione snapped. "Someone's got to take care of you two and you don't seem to be doing it."

"'Alm dow', 'Mione," Ron sighed over his beef. Ginny rubbed her eyes with her thumb and index finger and Ron swallowed. "Just try and take a little better care of yourselves you two, that's all we're saying."

"Fine, we--" Ginny paused. "I will."

"I'm doing just peachy," Harry insisted, somewhat sardonically. "But I'll eat, okay?" He took a bite of pudding to illustrate his consent.

Hermione made a tisking noise with her tongue, sighed, and looked away down the table. Harry rolled his eyes and rested his elbows on the table and his head in his hands. Ron stared at them in disbelief and confusion, obviously clueless when it came to solving the argument. Ginny stood up and glared at the three friends.

"I'm tired, I'm going to bed," she said firmly.

"Ginny--" Hermione started, but Harry cut her off.

"Good night, Ginny," he said, smiling a slightly conspiratorial smile.

"Good night," she said back, looking a little surprised, but pleased as she turned to leave.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; not the plot, not the setting, not the characters. I'm just making a few changes. You should be able to recognize them. =D

A/N: Hey guys! I know it hasn't gotten too exciting yet, but stick with me. I'm getting there. Please read and review, that's all I can ask.

Chapter 4

The days passed in what became a very regular and dependable routine. Ginny worked hard, did her homework, did not fall asleep in class, and got as much sleep as possible. That turned out to be a lot more than she'd expected. There were days at a time when she might not have nightmares, sometimes even weeks. It was strange how it would work. Some days she'd wake totally rested, having slept undisturbed the entire night; others she would not sleep more than a few hours, if she was lucky.

She noticed this in Harry, too. He seemed to be getting more sleep and eating more, too, just like her. Yet there were times when he still looked warn and tired, and she knew that the same was true when it came to her own appearance. They were a strange pair, and yet the two of them were hardly ever around each other to share in their misery. In fact, Harry didn't even know about her dreams. And she didn't want him to.

One of the things Ginny suspected was helping with her nightmares was the DA. Long nights of learning to fight were exactly what she needed. It made it easy for her to fall asleep, too exhausted to dream. She could take a hint, so she quickly developed a pattern of working late into the night, making herself so tired that she couldn't manage a nightmare. But even this technique was not foolproof. It was like the dreams had a mind of their own. They came and went as they pleased.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; not the plot, not the setting, not the characters. I'm just making a few changes. You should be able to recognize them. =D

A/N: Hey guys! You might have noticed that this is a slightly different format than DoJ was written in. I'm experimenting a little with this fic, so please be patient with me. Some chapters may be very short, others may be long. I'm trying to separate this in whatever way makes most sense. Forgive the experimental nature of this and please just read and review.

I'd like to thank my first two reviewers: Miss Quartermain and EternalSong13. Thank you so much! I really appreciate it!

Chapter 5

So much had changed in three years. _She_ had changed in three years. Not that it mattered. Fundamentally she was the same. She was older, naturally, and stronger now. Her personality was more developed, more sure, as if she was finally starting to decide who she was going to be. It was a fascinating process, a marvelous change to witness. But she was still mostly what she had been before. Her mind was still so pure and honest, just as it had been three years ago. He was, however, pleasantly surprised to find a shadowy, sheltered portion of her mind dedicated to him. Nice to know he was remembered.

Seemed like she was still just as interested in Harry Potter as before, if not more. He was fine with that. It made things interesting. Besides, the whole pointing getting control of her mind was to make something of it. He never wasted his time with anything that wasn't useful. Not that he'd originally known what use she would be, outside of opening the Chamber of Secrets, that is. And it had frustrated him when he'd been unable to justify his constant visits into her mind. Morals had nothing to do with his inability to lie to himself; he was just too smart for it. He was, however, exceptionally good at finding a use for something no one else wanted or understood. That was what he had done with her. After months of looking into her mind, of speaking to her through the diary, he finally developed a plan.

That plan still held true today. He saw no need to taker her out of the equation, not when he was so sure his plan was going to work. The worst part of following this plan: It meant he'd have to break her, fully and completely. She would be nothing like the girl she once was, a total stranger to her old self. If his heart could break over anything, it would break when he had to destroy what had kept him captivated for so long.

But his heart couldn't break. And it wouldn't break. No need. She was a tool, nothing else. He didn't worry about his tools, his followers, anything other than himself. It was a very practical thing to do when the whole world hated you, even those that worshiped you. And that was how it worked for him. Even Belatrix, who had done more for him through love and loyalty than anyone else, would never mean more to him than those expendable Death Eaters in the outer circle. What did he need her for? She was just another way for him to achieve his goals. Oh, it was pitiful how they got their hopes up, trying to convince him that they were his "most loyal servant." As if it mattered to him at all. Sometimes he grew very tired of them. There were moments when he was ready to blow them all away.

Either way, she was a tool he'd be all too happy to use, and all too sad at the same time. Despite his unnatural ability to shut off all emotion and interested in others, he couldn't help but find her mesmerizing. Her mind was so…simple yet complex. It was so different from his own thinking, his own mindset that it intrigued him beyond any he'd ever entered. At first he'd been disgusted by the simplicity of it, the _nobility_ of it. How unfortunate for his diary to have fallen into her hands! He'd hoped for someone with the heart to do the task, or perhaps without the heart was a better way of putting it. Yet that was what made her so interesting. To make her useful to him at all in reopening the Chamber he had to completely take over. He had to coax, to deceive, to capture her mind so that it was no longer hers. It was an experience unlike any other. Normally he simply would put an Imperious Curse on them and the job would be done. But her sense of right and wrong would not die, no matter how hard he tried to bury it in her through the curse. He had to entirely remove her from herself for the process to work at all. That sort of strength was…different from anything he'd ever seen. It was then that he realized he true usefulness. Someone with that kind of inner strength and courage could only be match by those like his greatest enemies. Surely Harry Potter's mind was not so very different from Ginny Weasley's. If he could learn how to control her, he could control anyone.

The original plan had been to leave her to die, her soul feeding his memory. But that had not worked, and it thrust plan B into action, even as he retreated into the shadows to wait for the right time to re-emerge. Now she was more than just an object. She was his only hope. When he finally returned, he resolved, he'd use what he'd gained from his time with her to make him even stronger. This, he was sure, was sufficient reason to validate his constant invasions of her thoughts, something that had baffled him up to that point.

At first, it had been horrible to write back to her every time she opened the diary. He would hesitate to answer, bored already with the conversation. But that quickly changed. He began to see the purity, the complete and undeniable strength within her. It enthralled him. Somehow, he had to figure out where it came from. His incursions became more frequent, greedier. Again and again he'd enter her thoughts, trying to understand what it was about her that was simply so fascinating. He became infuriated by his sudden obsession, angered that he was unable to explain it and yet determined to keep going until he found out the source of his fixation. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, all spent trying to understand Ginny Weasley and why his existence was so unexpectedly dependant on hers. Other than that she fueled his life source, naturally.

It was for that reason, for the entire year dedicated to understanding this girl, that one of his first actions when his rebirth was successful and he returned to full power was to revisit her mind. He told himself it was simply to resume his previous plans about weaponizing her. And he mostly had himself convinced. There was a part of him that wasn't going to bother with lies, though. He knew that she still held him spellbound, with her unbreakable will. That was why he was going back, time and time again, to see if he could find some chink somewhere in the armor. Maybe he could, maybe he never would. It didn't matter either way. If he didn't, she was even more fascinating than he'd believed. If he did, then he knew how to exploit her and all those like her. So he searched, and Ginny dreamed, Tom Riddle coming once again very much alive.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; not the plot, not the setting, not the characters. I'm just making a few changes. You should be able to recognize them. =D

A/N: The beginning of this chapter might not be totally true to the book guys, so please don't hate me for taking a little liberty.

I'd like to thank my first two reviewers: Miss Quartermain and EternalSong13. Thank you so much! I really appreciate it! And also a special thank you to xxred-headxx for adding Think Twice to their alerts.

Chapter 6

The sky outside was as dark and deep as black velvet, dotted with little silver stars that sparkled like diamonds. Just looking at it made Ginny sleepy, the softness of the sky reminding her of her own comfortable bed, and she assumed it was finally safe for her to head back to the Common Room. Slowly she began to gather her books and papers together, occasionally stopping to rub her eyes. It was totally silent in the library. The curfew for fourth year students dictated that Ginny should have been in the Common Room a couple of hours ago, but recently she'd found a way to spend most of her evenings in the library, working herself so long that she could hardly keep her eyes open. Madam Pince was very fond of Ginny. She was quiet and hard-working, both attributes that the librarian was only too happy to reward. So almost every night she'd work until she was too tired to keep going, then she quietly go over to Madam Pince and ask for a pass to be out after hours.

And that was what she did tonight. It was easier than working in the Common Room; it took away any temptation to go to bed earlier than was necessary. She really didn't have that much homework, so the library also offered reading material to keep her busy. If she wasn't doing homework or reading for fun, she would work on her OWLs, which she still had a full year and a half to prepare for. Her desperation was starting to become obvious when she got half-way through her "The OWL Exams and You" study guide. Her grades were soaring, but her health was getting increasingly worse. She was getting about five hours of sleep a night on average, if she didn't have nightmares, and her diet had been reduced to meager portions. Dark circles under her eyes refused to disappear, and her uniform was soon going to be too big for her. She ate enough to appease Ron, who was seriously beginning to think she had an eating disorder, but no more.

Glancing at the giant clock above the library entrance, Ginny gathered the last of her belongings, stuffing them roughly into her pack. She headed to the front desk and attempted a smile as Madam Pince looked up from her enormous book to scrutinize whoever was disrupting her reading. When she saw that it was Ginny, she returned the smile and got out a piece of parchment and scribbled out a pass without having to be asked.

"Goodness, Miss Weasley," the librarian sighed, looking up at the clock, "I've only ever seen one other fourth year spend so much time in here. I must say, I'm impressed."

_As if it was a competition,_ Ginny thought moodily, still forcing a smile. _Thank you, Hermione_. "Thank you," she managed to say very pleasantly as she took the pass from Madam Pince. "Sorry to keep you up so late."

"It's not just you," the older woman pointed out, nodding at a group of seventh years. "I really ought to set a rule about late night studying," she tisked to herself as Ginny headed for the door.

The corridors were so deserted; it made Ginny feel small next to the suits of armor and the tapestries that covered the entire span of the wall. They were also extremely dark, only the occasional lamp giving off any light. She finally resorted to lighting her own wand, holding it out in front of her so as not to trip on anything in her path.

She yawned again. Her plan to avoid the nightmares was extremely faulty, but she couldn't figure out any other way. Staying up late for the DA was another useful way, and the studying seemed to be helping too, but there was no guarantee that either plan would work. It felt like someone was dictating when she would have the dreams, always picking the most inconvenient moments possible. It was a frightening thought, because the next logical step was that she was being possessed. This, however, did not fly. Ginny had been possessed once before and it was nothing like this. There were no gaps in her memory, she wasn't waking up to find herself covered in blood and chicken feathers, and she certainly wasn't hearing snakes. So she took a deep breath and told herself she was being ridiculous.

But how could she believe that? It had been three years since she'd dreamed of the Chamber of Secrets. Three years! Since then she had never suffered from a string of related nightmares, let alone one that lasted for months. This was unusual to say the least, and trying to convince herself otherwise was leading to her deteriorating health. By now she should have gone to Madam Pomfrey and requested some sort of help; a dreamless sleep potion maybe, or even the appetite helper that Hermione had told her about. Really, she should have told Professor McGonagall when she'd been asked what was bothering her. But Ginny had learned to be secretive after her year-long experience with Tom Riddle. She'd realized that telling people about yourself can only lead to trouble, and she'd stuck to that rule. It seemed stubborn and stupid and proud as she thought about it now, but she couldn't make herself get help. That she knew was pride.

She had become so wrapped up in her thoughts that she hardly paid attention to the path she took. The way to the Common Room was so familiar to her that she could have walked it blindfold, but to her surprise, she suddenly found herself heading toward the Room of Requirement instead. Somewhat startled, she turned around and began to retrace her steps when a sudden noise, like a huge pile of metal collapsing on itself, made her freeze.

"You idiot!" a snobby, oily voice that Ginny recognized as Malfoy's said from around the corner. "Why didn't you light your wand when I told you to? You'd better put that back together before someone comes to check it out."

"I don't know how," Crabbe said in irritation. "Let one of the house elves do it. We won't get in trouble."

"You don't think they'd get mad at us for breaking school property? Being on the Inquisitorial Squad doesn't make us totally immune to detention!"

"Aw, calm down, Draco," Goyle sighed heavily.

Ginny took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to calm herself down. It was just Malfoy, just Malfoy. She wasn't being followed and there certainly wasn't a huge snake in the corridor. Her imagination was starting to get the better of her. Or was that lack of sleep?

"What was that?" Malfoy snapped.

"I dunno," the two cronies mumbled, obviously apathetic.

"Someone's in the corridor," Malfoy insisted. "That means they're out after curfew. Come on!"

Ginny's heart began to pound before she calmly reminded herself that she had a pass and absolutely no need to worry about being in trouble. The thought didn't comfort her much. She wanted to keep walking instead of standing their guiltily, but she couldn't move. A few seconds passed before three little white lights followed by one average and two large shapes that resembled Crabbe, Goyle, and Malfoy rounded the corner.

"Aha," Malfoy said triumphantly. "Told you someone was out of bed."

"I have a p-pass," Ginny said shakily.

Crabbe and Goyle laughed stupidly before realizing what she meant.

"Wait…" Goyle said slowly. "You mean you're _allowed_ to be out?"

"Yes," she said much too fast.

"She sounds too guilty," Malfoy pointed out. "I don't think she really does have a pass."

"I do!" she insisted, searching through her large stack of papers for the pass. "I swear it was right here…"

A long moment passed as she continued to search for the slip of paper and the three Slytherins watched in disbelief. Finally, Malfoy stepped forward and snatched the papers away from her, shuffling through them himself.

"It's not here," he announced after a few seconds. "That means detention. Let's take her to Umbridge."

"But I had one!" Ginny said desperately, feeling tears beginning to well up in her eyes. She was glad it was dark so the three boys could not see her emotion.

"Well, I can't find it--" Malfoy started when someone cleared their throat behind him.

"Looking for this?" said a very familiar voice.

Everyone turned around to see Harry leaning against the wall, Ginny's pass waving from one hand. She let out a sigh of relief, and Malfoy made a sound that was very close to a growl.

"How do I know if that's legitimate?" he demanded, snatching the parchment from Harry's hand.

"I'm awful at forging signatures, and don't know how to do it by magic," Harry said simply, "so I guess you'll just have to trust me."

"You could ask Madam Pince," Ginny suggested quietly. "She'll tell you."

Malfoy glared at the two of them, but his evidence was gone. Suddenly, a glint of excitement in his eyes, he said, "Why are you out so late, Potter?"

Harry grimaced, but answered without hesitation. "Detention with Umbridge. Surprised she didn't tell you…."

Malfoy made the same growling sound as before and fiddled with his wand. "You'd better get to your Common Room _now_ or I'll get you for loitering," he snapped.

"You make a better Inquisitorial…Squader than you do a Prefect, Malfoy," Harry said in mock surprise. "Maybe you should give up trying to be the Prefect."

"Lip will get you detention, too, Potter," Malfoy threatened. "Now get out of here before I change my mind."

Harry held up his hands as a sign of surrender and turned to leave, Ginny right behind him. They were quiet for a long time, and Ginny was hesitant to break the silence; Harry showed no sign or interest in doing so himself.

"Thank you for getting me out of there," she said finally, speaking so fast she was surprised he could understand her.

"No problem," he shrugged it off.

She bit her lip, not sure if she should continue. "How did you find me?" she couldn't help asking.

"I found your pass on the ground, then I heard that suit of armor fall over and I went to investigate," he explained, not bothering to look at her.

"Oh," Ginny said stupidly.

"Why were you over by the Room of Requirement anyway?" he continued, finally sounding interested.

"I…" she frowned as she tried to think of a reasonable explanation. "I don't know."

He looked at her for the first time, cocking an eyebrow in incredulity.

"Really," she insisted. "I was going to the Common Room from the library and I was just so…I don't know…busy thinking that I didn't realize where I was going until I was there." It sounded really lame, but she didn't know what else to say. She bit her lip again.

"Hmmm," he said.

They fell silent. Ginny looked straight ahead, irritated by how easily embarrassed she was around Harry. She must seem really weak and silly to him, which really wasn't true. She wasn't weak, not anymore. The three years that had passed since the Chamber of Secrets had made her anything but weak, and she was extremely smart and competent. It was only around him that she managed to look like anything less.

She stifled yet another yawn, shivering slightly. Harry glanced over at her, looking, much to Ginny's surprise, concerned.

"I hate to sound like Ron or Hermione," he said cautiously, "but are you okay? You seem…different lately."

_Different?_ "Yes," she answered immediately. "I'm fine. Why?" _How? What was different? Did he really know her well enough to tell?_

"You look so tired," he said, sounding sorry for her. "Lately every time I see you you're barely able to keep your eyes open." He stared fixedly at the floor as he talked and the words came out much faster than normal. "And you hardly eat. Not that it's my place it's just…" the words trailed off and chewed awkwardly on the inside of his cheek.

Ginny couldn't help but smile just a little. "I am tired," she admitted. "And I'm very hungry _right now_ but if I were to be offered food, I wouldn't be able to eat. But, no Harry, I'm fine. Thanks for the concern."

He stopped suddenly, looking at her in shock.

"What?" she asked, stopping too.

"You think that's _fine_?" he demanded. "Ginny, you need to eat and sleep!"

They stared at each other for a moment, Harry still uncertain and a little worried, Ginny firm but knowing deep down that he was right.

"I mean…" he finally started again, "I don't want to sound rude or anything, but you can't say that not eating or sleeping is _fine_."

"But I _am_ fine, Harry," she sighed, starting to walk. "I'm getting by just great. My grades are better than ever, and--"

"You're suffering," he finished for her. "It's really obvious."

"Really?" she whispered, slightly panicky. "How obvious is really obvious."

"Really obvious," he said again. "Everyone who knows you can tell that you're in need of at least a long rest and a good meal."

She sighed heavily. "I can't explain it Harry, but I need you to trust me. I can handle it."

They had reached the Fat Lady's portrait, and Harry stopped again, turning to face her, his eyes searching hers. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"Positive," she practically squeaked (sometimes she really hated herself).

"Carpe Diem," he said flatly and Ginny blinked in surprise.

"About time," the Fat Lady yawned, swinging open so the two of them could enter.

Harry allowed Ginny to climb through first before entering himself. He didn't bother to say anything else, but headed straight to the boy's dormitories. She let out a very disappointed sigh and slowly made her way to her own dormitory, where she collapsed on the bed. 


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; not the plot, not the setting, not the characters. I'm just making a few changes. You should be able to recognize them. =D

A/N: Hey everyone! I'd like to thank my first three reviewers: Miss Quartermain, EternalSong13, and sbmcneil. Thank you so much! I really appreciate it! And also a special thank you to HeARtXofXDaRK, Lizzy123, Potterdancer616, forgequidditch106, nesciamema, and nyladnam04 for adding Think Twice to their alerts. This really helps guys! Thank you, thank you!

Chapter 7

It felt like the year was dragging on at such a painfully slow pace that the approach of the winter holidays seemed long overdue. Quiditch had helped a good deal though, and the last few weeks had passed much more quickly than before. If the opportunity had presented itself at the beginning of the year, she would never have tried out. But she had nearly finished her The OWL Exams and You book and she'd studied enough for her final exams that she could have passed them with flying colors if she'd taken them right then. And the DA was only on certain days. Her schedule was too open for her liking, so she tried out and was now playing as the replacement Seeker. This had also helped her appetite slightly. While she was eating less than she ought to, even after a strenuous practice, she was at least eating consistently now. Ron had noticed the difference and wasn't bothering her as much anymore, especially since he could keep an eye on her during Quiditch practice now as well. This didn't make Angelina happy though_._ Many times she'd have to yell at Ron for paying more attention to his sister than to the Quaffle.

Tonight was the first time in weeks that Ginny felt comfortable going to be early—meaning around 10 PM. It was the last DA meeting until after Christmas Break and she'd been so tired from practice lately that she was certain that one good night's rest wouldn't hurt. This also put Ron at ease. Though it had taken him much longer to notice her sleeping patterns than it had to catch her declining eating habits, he wasn't any happier about it than he was about her near anorexia. She finally seemed to be returning to normal, which made it easier for him to relax.

Ginny could feel her feet dragging as she walked up the stairs, and her movements were slow and clumsy as she pulled on her pajamas and climbed under the covers. It was a good sign, she thought as her head hit the pillow. Then, almost immediately, she was asleep.

_It was dark in the corridor and the floor felt smooth and cool against her stomach. The air tasted musty and old, but there was something warm, living, up ahead. She moved quickly, silently. Her long, thin body was perfectly discreet in the darkness. The only thing that disturbed her calm, clear thoughts and movements was the eagerness coming from her master's presence. He was anxious, too, nervous yet hopeful and so _close _that little else mattered. She hoped it would not disturb her caution, her easy ability to move in this place. His mind was heavy against hers. Images of the prize were flashing in her mind's eye, distracting her slightly. Her master often feared she would not remember as she ought to. But she knew what she was looking for, and the images he was sending her were not helpful. She let out the faintest hiss, which she knew he could not hear, nor feel. The connection was somewhat one-sided that way. Footsteps. She paused, allowing her tongue to test the air, to sense what was ahead. A body—living. Small enough to kill. She felt her muscles ripple at her mind's command. She was ready. For the time being, she continued, reaching a door which, at her master's command, opened without her having to touch it. They were almost there. Her master's mind became even more oppressively present in hers. The footsteps were nearer now. Again she tried the air. Man. Average. Thin. Old enough to not be stronger than her. She would be fast and he would fall. She was eager, excited, impatient. He was approaching. Perhaps he'd heard her. Not possible. She was silence. She was darkness. She went unseen, unheard, unnoticed. His feet were in sight now. With a thought, her body coiled and tensed to strike. A bright light suddenly filled the space and she, in her anger at being caught off guard, launched herself forward, biting down on human flesh. Her fangs were cold with poison. The man groaned in agony and he fell. Again she struck, again she bit. She was power. She was fear. She was going to kill this man. Pitifully, he struck at her with his hands. His magic stick had fallen aside. He was powerless against her. Her master's presence was pleased. _

Someone was screaming. It took Ginny a long time to realize it was her. She was caught in her sheets, still thrashing and jerking as the memory of the poison filled her mind. The dream was over, she could tell, but the images were still so real, like living beings existing inside her, that she could not control herself.

"Ginny! Ginny, what's _wrong_ with you? Ginny!"

Someone else's voice now, not just her own screams. Why couldn't she stop? She didn't think she was drawing breath or that her heart was even still beating. All she could do was kick and scream, trying to throw off the memories. Tears stung at her cheeks and filled her mouth along with the taste of the poison which, deep down, she knew wasn't real. But it felt real. Like it was _her_ poison. She was choking on her tears now, on her screams. Her breath caught in her throat. Someone pounded her back, tried to hold her still. She tried to breathe deeply. Was she still screaming?

"Help," she shrieked. "Help, help me please! God! Please, save me!"

She wasn't worthy to be saved. She was a killer. She'd killed her own father, with her own poison. Poison she could still feel in her throat.

"Please." The words barely made it out of her mouth. "Oh, please, please help."

"Ginny, it's okay. It's okay!" Then, a little softer, to someone else, "I've never…have you ever…?"

Another voice. "'God, save me?'"

She was breathing into her pillow now, calming herself as well as she could. It was a dream. Not real. She hadn't actually just killed her father. She would have had to be a snake to do that. And she wasn't a snake. She wasn't a snake. Just to make sure, she flexed her fingers, her arms. She still had all four appendages. Not a snake. Not a snake.

"Should we go get somebody…to help?"

"I think she's getting better now. Maybe we should just take her to the Hospital Wing."

"Save me," she whispered into the pillow. "Please."

Her eyes were heavy, but she refused to let them close. She didn't even want to blink. Every time she did, she saw it again. Her father falling, a snake wrapping itself around his body, his face a mask of pain. Suddenly, she raised herself on her elbow, leaned over the bed, and emptied her stomach. There wasn't much there and she continued to heave dryly for a long time.

"Oh, ew!"

"Ginny! What _happened_?!"

"Is she okay?"

"I think I'm going to be sick."

Finally, she sank back onto the bed, feeling as though her head was about to explode. Even with all the nightmares she'd had this year, this one was too terrible to even be compared with anything she'd previously been through. She was sure she'd never let herself sleep again.

The door swung open and a familiar voice brought Ginny somewhat back to reality.

"Ginny! Oh my Go—what-what's wrong?"

"Hermione," she said softly. "I have to see Dumbledore."

"Yes, you do," Hermione said, sounding shaky. "McGonagall asked me to come get you…to take you to him."

"Why?" Ginny asked sharply. "She can't know…"

"Know what?" Hermione sighed. Ginny could see the distress in her friend's face. It was not comforting in the least. "What happened to you, Ginny?"

Ginny swallowed. The poison slid down her throat, cold and sharp. "Nightmare."

Hermione looked a little doubtful, as if she couldn't imagine a nightmare having such a strong effect. But she shook her head and walked over to the bed, careful not to step in the sick that had pooled on the floor.

"Let's go," she said firmly. "You've got to see Dumbledore."

Ginny allowed herself to be pulled to her feet, but had to lean heavily on Hermione. Her own strength seemed totally gone.

The walk to the Headmaster's office was long and painful. Every shadow looked like a snake, every noise sounded like a hiss. Hermione was clearly confused about what was going on, and with every jerk that Ginny made away from an object or offending patch of darkness, grew more anxious. By the time they had reached the spiral staircase, Ginny was almost too weak even to stand. The door swung open and they tumbled inside; Ginny was dragged over to a chair and within seconds was surrounded by her brothers.

"Ginny—"

"_Look_ _at_ _me_!"

They all jumped. Ginny lifted her eyes to see Harry, drenched in sweat and looking an awful lot like she felt, standing opposite Dumbledore, panting and gasping in surprise at his own anger. Before Dumbledore, and everyone else, could really recover, McGonagall was by Ginny's side, demanding to know why she was so bedraggled. But Ginny didn't pay attention. She was too busy getting a quick synopsis of what had happened up until that point from Fred, who looked more afraid than she had ever seen him. Though she could hardly believe what she was hearing, it seemed like Harry had had the exact same dream that she had just suffered through. It sounded impossible, but judging by Harry's actions and appearance, she figured it must be true. She tried to catch his eye, to see just what he was thinking, at least to some degree, but he never looked her way, not until they were all standing around the portkey and the horrible feeling of being yanked from somewhere behind her navel had already set in. He suddenly jerked to the right, as though looking away from something else, and their eyes met. His were wide with horror, and she knew they must look a good deal like her own. Confused, angry, and most of all, terrified. She wanted to say something, but the portkey took all words from her mouth until she felt her feet collapse under her. And then Fred and George were dragging her to a chair in the kitchen of Grimald Place and she no longer felt like speaking, hearing, thinking, or even existing.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; not the plot, not the setting, not the characters. I'm just making a few changes. You should be able to recognize them. =D This chapter contains some dialogue taken directly from the fifth book, chapter 22 ( St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries) pages 490-491. Thank you JK Rowling, the words belong entirely to you (with a few exceptions).

A/N: Hey everyone! I'd like to thank you all for sticking with this, even though I know it's a slightly slower fic. Hopefully from this point on it will get more interesting. Stick with me guys, I really need your reviews! They help so much. And thanks to those who are giving constructive criticism. It's what makes any writer better and it is totally welcome. Please, please don't hesitate! Tell me what you think!

Chapter 8

The next what felt like several hours were spent in almost total silence (after a tense moment at the beginning when it seemed that Fred and George might actually mutiny against Sirius), which Ginny was both grateful for and resentful of. She was so exhausted that she was caught in a world somewhere between dreams and reality for the entire time. Her body was grateful for the frequent though short rests she fell into, but her mind was half crazed with memories of the nightmare and she couldn't let her eyes close without seeing what she was trying so desperately to forget. She knew she must have looked insane, jumping and jerking all over the place whenever she abruptly woke. Her hand was almost constantly at her throat as she tried to remind herself she had no fangs and _no_ poison. But in her mixed up state, it was hard to convince herself of anything, or even get herself to think clearly about what was happening around her. It was all a blur.

The whole of Grimmauld Place seemed to be waiting with bated breath, somehow even the house itself. And even Sirius seemed too confused and worried to try and comfort anyone. The silence was so charged with anxious tension, Ginny was sure it would snap at the slightest hint of further pressure. So she curled up into a ball in her chair, her knees pulled up to her chest and her head resting on them. It was like a protective wall, in the hopes that, if anyone was watching her, they would see as little as possible. She was, however, strategically placed so that she could watch almost everyone by switching which side of her head was lying on her knees. To her right, Ron and George were both visible. Ron seemed dazed, reflective, and George was sullen and brooding. When she looked to her left, Fred sat next to her and then Sirius. Fred's face mirrored George's exactly, as it usually did. And Sirius clearly was uncomfortable in the silence, not because the quiet itself bothered him, but because he could feel the heavy burden the four Weasley children were carrying. She wondered if he knew just how heavy a burden it was, especially on her. Her heart felt so laden with troubles, her mind so consumed with her fears, that she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to get over it. She wanted to cry, to let out her frustration but she'd cried herself out for the time being. Yet her throat still strained and her eyes still burned with tears that did not come. At one point a small whimper escaped her lips and she felt everyone's eyes turn towards her, most especially a pair of bright green eyes.

Harry sat next to Sirius, very still and quiet. He had not moved since they'd arrived, except to occasionally drink from the bottle of butterbeer that had been offered him. Aside from sloshing some of the drink on the table at one point, the first sign of motion from him came when he looked up at Ginny. Their eyes met for the second time that night and this time they did not break away immediately. Before he had seemed afraid, now in the emotions behind the green irises she sensed something far darker. Something she could only classify as resentment, anger, possibly guilt. She didn't understand why. She also didn't understand why he was still staring at her. Did he want her to know how he was feeling? Did he know that she too was feeling guilty, angry, resentful towards herself? She suddenly wanted to tell him so badly that it took a great deal of self-control to keep herself from blurting out the truth. _"I attacked my own father! I almost killed him! I was a snake, with poisonous fangs and a thirst for my father's blood!"_ Somehow she didn't think that would go over well.

Finally, a letter from Mrs. Weasley arrived which bore the message _"Dad is still alive, I am setting out for St. Mungo's now. Stay where you are. I will send news as soon as I can. Mum." _ It was hardly what you could call comforting. The words made it seem like Mr. Weasley was not likely to survive and an even more unsettling silence fell over the group. Eventually, however, after what was surely the longest night of Ginny's life, Mrs. Weasley arrived, looking disheveled but relieved, assuring them all that Mr. Weasley would live. Everyone seemed to take a breath for the first time in hours. Everyone except Harry and Ginny. Could she really feel relieved about this? Yes, he would live, but there was still the horrifying truth about her nightmare. Even if her father made a full recovery and forgot about the whole experience, she never could. It seemed to her that she had taken a step into the dark and forbidding room that her dreams had been attempting to drag her into for the past several months. She'd avoided it for so long that being swallowed by it now seemed almost unreal. But it was real. Terrifyingly real.

"Breakfast!" Sirius shouted, after the announcement by Mrs. Weasley had been made. But Ginny didn't want food. She didn't want anything but solitude. So she snuck up the stairs to her bedroom in the bustle that followed Sirius's command, though not before she saw Harry pull Sirius off to the side and have a brief conversation with him. Something about the look on Harry's face as he did so bothered Ginny a great deal, but she was too preoccupied with her own emotions to stop and worry about Harry's for more than a brief instant.

She practically flew up the stairs after getting out of sight of everyone else and it took all her will power not to slam the door of her room behind her. Immediately she collapsed on the bed, her chest rising and falling with dry sobs that felt more to her like she was trying to vomit than like she was crying. _You love your father. You didn't want to kill him. You love your father!_

She struck the mattress with her fist as hard as she could. A small puff of dust rose from the sheets and disappeared into the darkness of her room. Again she pounded the bed, again and again and again, with her hands, her feet. She hit it harder and harder with each strike, trying with all her might to let out the feelings that were trapped inside of her. She wanted to scream, but no one must know why she was up there. Let them think she was sleeping, let them think she was dead, she didn't care what they thought; they just couldn't know that she was up there panicking, going insane. Eventually, she wore herself out and she collapsed on the bed, unable even to think any more. She was so tired…

*****

She was furious at herself when she woke up a few hours later. How had she let herself fall asleep? Something else, something even more horrible than what she had seen before (though she could not imagine what that might be) could have happened. Even a few short hours of sleep had, for the past several months, meant painful dreams and last night should have taught her that sleep was no longer safe at all. There was no possibility of avoiding the dreams now. They were a living thing, something that could take over her at any time. Was she going crazy? She couldn't think of any other answer.

Eventually she forced herself to go down stairs and choke down some lunch. She wanted to gag on every bite, but she methodically chewed and swallowed until she had cleared off half her plate. Then she excused herself to go and change. Their school trunks had arrived and Ginny stood for perhaps ten minutes staring into hers, her mind so preoccupied that she couldn't even force herself to stoop and pull out a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. Finally though, she managed it and arrived, dressed and ready, at the bottom of the stairs long after everyone else had.

Tonks and Mad-Eye were there to escort them across London and to St. Mungo's. Ginny paid them little attention, focusing on the rushing train when they were on the underground, the bustling people as they walked through the streets, and the lime-green robes of the Healers when they arrived at St. Mungo's rather than the people she was with. She hoped that by seeming interested in her surroundings she might not appear quite so…unnerved.

They finally made it to Mr. Weasley's room and as they did, Ginny felt her stomach tie itself into a knot of guilt. But her father did not seem the least bit worried about his appearance, despite the bandages. Instead, he beamed at his family and spoke of his injuries as though they were nothing at all. He held out his good arm to Ginny and when she stepped forward he wrapped it around her in a tight hug. She briefly rested her cheek on top of his head, both to be closer to her dad and also to hide the tears that were threatening to overflow after hours of suppression. Drops were sticking to her eyelashes and a weak cry threatened to burst from Ginny's mouth; she bit down on her lip so hard that she felt beads of crimson blood forming there. When she pulled away from her dad she moved immediately to the wall, staring at it long enough to wipe her eyes before she turned around to face everyone. Luckily no one was watching her. They were all too preoccupied with the patient.

It was a relief when her mother insisted that they all go outside while Tonks and Mad-Eye had their visit with Mr. Weasley. By that time Ginny had made up her mind. She had to get things off her chest; if she carried the weight of the nightmares much longer she might go completely mental. The best thing to do was admit the truth while she still could get help; before the day was through, preferably.

"Fine," Fred said coolly, bringing Ginny out of her thoughts very quickly. He was sifting through his pockets as he spoke. "Be like that. Don't tell us anything."

It was the first time Ginny had paid any attention to the conversations going on around her and she felt slightly behind. What wasn't their mother telling them?

"Looking for these?" said George, holding out what looked like a tangle of flesh-colored string.

"You read my mind," said Fred, grinning. "Let's see if St. Mungo's puts Imperturbable Charms on its ward doors, shall we?"

He and George disentangled the string and separated five Extendable Ears from each other. Fred and George handed them around. Ginny looked up after receiving hers and noticed that Harry hesitated to take one.

"Go on, Harry, take it! You saved Dad's life, if anyone's got the right to eavesdrop on him, it's you…."

Harry grinned as he took the end of the string and inserted it into his ear as the twins had done.

"Okay, go!" Fred whispered.

The flesh-colored strings wriggled like long skinny worms, then snaked under the door. For a few seconds, Ginny could hear nothing, then she heard Tonks whispering as clearly as though she were standing right beside her.

"…they searched the whole area but they couldn't find the snake anywhere, it just seems to have vanished after it attacked you, Arthur…. But You-Know-Who can't have expected a snake to get in, can he?"

"I reckon he sent it as a lookout," growled Moody, "'cause he's not had any luck so far, has he? No, I reckon he's trying to get a clearer picture of what he's facing and if Arthur hadn't been there the beast would've had much more time to look around. So Potter says he saw it all happen?"

Ginny shot a quick look at Harry. He'd gone rigid when his name was mentioned and Ginny feared what she was about to hear next.

"Yes," said Mrs. Weasley. She sounded rather uneasy. "You know, Dumbledore seems almost to have been waiting for Harry to see something like this…."

"Yeah, well," said Moody, "there's something funny about the Potter kid, we all know that."

"Dumbledore seemed worried about Harry when I spoke to him this morning," whispered Mrs. Weasley.

"'Course he's worried," Growled Moody. "The boy's seeing things from inside You-Know-Who's snake….Obviously, Potter doesn't realize what that means, but if You-Know-Who's possessing him—"

Ginny's heart was pounding. Possessing? She hadn't thought of that before. She'd been possessed before and this didn't feel anything like that. But what if…what if it _was_ true? Was Voldemort possessing Harry, and if he was he must be possessing her. The thought was too horrible to think about, but she could tell that everyone was thinking it, though excluding the part about her. She also was no longer the only person watching Harry. He had removed his Extendable Ear and was staring back at them, his eyes wide with fear that only Ginny could appreciate.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; not the plot, not the setting, not the characters. I'm just making a few changes. You should be able to recognize them. =D

A/N: Hey everyone! I'd like to thank you all for sticking with this, even though I know it's a slightly slower fic. Hopefully from this point on it will get more interesting. Stick with me guys, I really need your reviews! They help so much. And thanks to those who are giving constructive criticism. It's what makes any writer better and it is totally welcome. Please, please don't hesitate! Tell me what you think!

Chapter 9

Harry sat next to her on the train ride home. He said nothing, only sat there looking pale and shaken and, in Ginny's opinion, disgusted. She could understand why. At the moment she felt disgusted too. Not with Harry—of course not with Harry—but with herself. No longer was she brave enough to speak to anyone about what was happening to her. She felt so sorry for Harry knowing that everyone now knew what the grown-ups were thinking of him, which, horrifyingly enough, might actually be true. That was part of what made her lose her courage. She didn't want everyone to know the same things that were being said about Harry were also true of her.

They arrived at Grimmauld Place and Mrs. Weasley sent Harry upstairs for a few hours of sleep before dinner time, insisting that he looked positively ill. Ginny watched him go, wishing that if anyone had to know about her he would be that person. But how could she tell him? Would he even believe her? She didn't know him well enough to confide in him something like this. Yet, who better to share the burden with than someone who was already bearing the same burden?

Ginny planned to help with dinner, but the air was heavy with disquiet and Ginny hated to be a part of it when she was the only one who really understood what was going on. She finally made her way up to her room, taking slow and deliberate steps, so exhausted that it was hard to keep her eyes open.

Suddenly her eyes jerked open at the sound of someone shouting. It took her a moment to recognize Harry's voice and even longer to decipher what he was saying. She quickened her pace. He seemed to be angry at someone. But who? He was bellowing about dementors now. Whatever for?

She reached Harry's bedroom by the time he'd stopped speaking and heard, to her surprise, an unfamiliar voice. Her first reaction was to reach for the handle and find out who was in there with Harry, but she thought better of it. Would he appreciate her rushing into his bedroom unannounced with the pretense of rescuing him? Probably not. As she struggled with this problem the voices died down leaving Ginny wondering what had happened. She longed to open the door but couldn't force herself to. Then, taking herself quite by surprise, she lifted her hand and knocked quietly twice. She just about turned and ran in the opposite direction, but Harry was at the door before she had time to do so.

"Oh!" she said stupidly, hating herself for being so childish.

Harry stared back at her, apparently unable to figure out why she was standing there. Ginny had to admit she was asking herself the same question.

"Um," he started at the same time that Ginny said, "Er," rather foolishly.

"Do you….Can I help you?" Harry finally managed, still obviously confused.

"I heard voices," Ginny answered far too quickly.

He gave her a blank look.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, blushing to the roots of her red hair, "I'm sure it was nothing. I just…thought I'd check."

With that she turned and raced away, feeling so miserable that she didn't know what to think of herself. It had been a long time since she'd last behaved so stupidly around Harry. Within the last two years she had finally managed to behave like a normal human being around him, but never before had she done something so embarrassing in front of anybody. Let alone Harry Potter. She rushed into her room, slamming the door behind her and flopping onto her bed. Burying her face in her pillow she allowed herself to do what she had tried to avoid that morning. She screamed into the cushion, letting out the horrible feeling of humiliation that had risen in her chest. Oh, she could be so foolish sometimes.

For some reason this awkward moment opened the floodgates to a very unwelcome subject that had been pushed to the back of her mind for most of the year, ever since the nightmares had become the preoccupying factor in her life. Her feelings for Harry had taken a back seat for some time now and that suited her just fine. She wanted to get over that. Not that she wanted to stop liking Harry, just that she'd rather not be some silly fan girl with a very impractical crush. For a while she thought that would no longer be a problem. But now that she reflected on the last few minutes of her life, it was obvious this was not the case. This thought brought with it one that almost made her want to throw up. She wasn't blind, even if she wasn't watching Harry like a hawk anymore. Everyone in the DA had noticed how Harry and Cho stayed after the last meeting—together, but otherwise completely _alone_. At the time Ginny had felt a slight pang in the pit of her stomach imagining the only reason that might be. Now she could clearly see, in annoyingly vivid detail, exactly what had happened. Oh, she must seem like such a stupid little girl in comparison to Cho! She wanted to curl up in a corner and disappear. Why on _earth_ did this matter so much? It was stupid!

Deep down, she did know why it was so important, especially now. Over the last twenty-four hours she had come to see too many parallels between herself and Harry, despite the fact that she meant nothing to him. They were connected somehow, in a way that neither of them wanted and only Ginny knew, but still it was _something_. Knowing that he was with Cho just seemed like adding insult to injury after everything she had been through.

It took a long time for her to finally calm down enough to remove her face from the pillow. She was still pink from embarrassment and the only comfort she could think of was that Harry probably had forgotten about it. He had much more important things on his mind right now and his best mate's little sister was, she was certain, low on his list of priorities. She reminded herself that Harry had become somewhat more…aware of her over the past year. Perhaps because he'd noticed the changes in her (due to the dreams which he still knew nothing about). But whatever the reason was, she was still convinced that at times like this he really couldn't care less about her. With this thought in mind—which was, strangely enough, comforting in its own way—she finally made her way downstairs in time to help set the table.

Again she ate little, only clearing away part of her plate. Mrs. Weasley took notice of this and insisted that Ginny eat more. So, under her mother's watchful eye, Ginny ate every last bite, though the experience was agonizingly long and difficult. She finally finished though and then, after helping with the dishes, left for her room once again.

Tonight she did not begrudge herself a little sleep. She knew it wasn't likely that she'd make it through the night without a nightmare, but it also wasn't likely that she'd turn into a snake again. So, for the first night in weeks, she fell asleep almost immediately.

*****

The next day was spent in putting up Christmas decorations which everyone participated in except Harry. This irritated Ginny to no end. She too was suffering, but for her family's sake she was hiding that fact. Harry, on the other hand, seemed to think isolation was his only option. She wanted to confront him about it, but her last encounter with him was still fresh on her mind and she wasn't eager to repeat the experience. Harry couldn't have eaten in the past two days, and Ginny was sure he must have been starving. But, naturally, his separation from everyone made it impossible for him to eat. She kept hoping he would crack under the pressure of such hunger and finally come down for a meal, but he didn't show any signs of doing so.

Sirius was also worried about his godson, though Ginny did not hear about it until she went upstairs after dinner to have some time alone. Instead of going to her room, which had been her original intention, she found that she was headed towards the room where Buckbeak was being kept. She didn't mind this at all. She was less likely to be found there. The room, however, was already occupied. Sirius sat next to the Hipogryph, humming some Christmas carols and occasionally throwing a dead rat at Buckbeak on time with his music. He looked up when the door opened and squinted into the light.

"Hello, Ginny," he said cheerfully.

"Hello," she replied, unsure whether she should leave or if she was welcome. "I hope I'm not…intruding."

"'Course not." He waved his hand to emphasize his point. "Sit down."

It was the first time Ginny had ever been alone with Harry's godfather and she was, even now, slightly intimidated by him. Of course she knew he wasn't a mass murderer, but his presence still demanded some respect. Anyone who could survive the dementors for as long as he did had to have a lot of courage. He was probably insane too, but lots of brave people are a little crazy.

They sat in silence, excluding Sirius's humming, and Ginny watched as Buckbeak clawed at the ground in search of fallen pieces of rat.

"How well do you know Harry?" Sirius asked suddenly, taking Ginny by surprise.

"Not that well, I guess," she admitted. "He's been Ron's best mate ever since first year, but I never really…was one of them, you know?" She paused for a moment. "I was just the little sister."

He nodded. "I can understand that." He smiled kindly, which took her off guard slightly. She also didn't know if he meant he could understand how she felt or how Ron felt, so she was a little confused as to how she should react.

"Does Harry…often sulk like this?" Sirius started again, throwing another dead rat at Buckbeak who snatched it right out of the air.

Ginny shrugged. "It makes sense that he is, but I don't think he does normally," she said. "But like I said, I'm not the best authority."

They were quiet again for some time, Sirius obviously lost in thought. Ginny didn't want to disturb him, so she said nothing. She liked the silence. It was somehow peaceful to sit in that smelly room with a convict who wasn't guilty and just enjoy the calm. In the end, it was Sirius who breeched it again.

"You remind me an awful lot of Lily, you know," he said simply, as though this were a very common thing to say. "You look like her some, but it's more….I'm not sure what to call it. Maybe your soul."

"My soul?" she repeated skeptically.

"Yes," he said a little more steadily. "You could always see right into Lily's soul. When she was happy…the whole world was happy around her. And when she was upset it was like it was raining all over. I guess that's why James liked her so much, though I'll admit my teenage self was less admiring of the attribute. She got on my nerves until I grew up enough to appreciate how special that soul was."

He paused for a second. At first the words made Ginny slightly nervous. It sounded like Sirius was confessing his feelings for Lily. But as she listened, Ginny realized that what he was doing was describing someone who had been a very close friend. Someone he had lost and was longing to see again. Not because she meant anything more to him than that friendship, but because he had been so lonely for friendship for so long that he wished there were some way to bring back into his life two of the most important people he'd ever known; Harry's parents. She couldn't help but wonder if Sirius had ever told Harry about this, but she didn't ask.

"I can see that in you, too," he continued giving her another kind smile. "These past few days you've seemed very down and I can see it in you. It's like there's a very big weight on your shoulders." To emphasize this he clapped her on the back in a fatherly way. "You doing all right?"

"Yeah," she said, surprised by his actions. "Thanks."

"Anything to help a friend," he laughed.

They once again were quiet and eventually Sirius stood to leave, holding out his hand to help her up. Then she walked back to her room, contemplating what she'd just heard and wondering how she felt about it.

*****

Ginny woke up that night in a cold sweat. Her eyes burned with the images of snakes and blood and a horribly familiar chamber. She got quickly to her feet and began to pace the room, hoping that the movement would allow her to think more clearly and erase the images from her mind. But every shadow took on the shape of a snake and every sound was a scream or a hiss. She finally dropped onto the floor, curling up into a ball and rocking back and forth as she waited for the horrors to pass. Eventually they did and she stood on shaky legs. Her throat was so dry she felt like she had not had a drop of water in days. There was no way she was going back to sleep, so she pulled on her bath robe and slid her feet into her slippers before heading downstairs to the kitchen.

The corridor was totally dark, without even enough light to find the wall. The only way she did was when she ran right into it. Annoyed, she headed back into her room in search of her wand which she lit before emerging back in the hallway. She turned to close her door, hoping that she had not woken anybody up with the noise she was making. Before she could turn around again she froze as something tapped her on the shoulder and then spun around with her wand pointing straight into Harry's chest.

"Oh!" Why was that always the first thing she thought to say with him around?

"Jeez, Ginny!" he snapped, raising his hands above his head in surrender. "I was just making sure it was you."

She leaned against the wall and relaxed somewhat though her heart was still pounding like mad. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I'm just a little on edge right now."

"I can see that."

Her face was growing hot and she was grateful that it was too dark for him to see the blush that was crawling down from her cheeks to her neck.

"What are you doing up so late—early?" he asked, stuffing his hands into his pocket.

"Couldn't sleep," she said evasively. "You?"

"I haven't eaten in two days," he pointed out. "I figured I'd go down to the kitchen and get something."

"Hmm." She used up a lot of self control by not saying that it was Harry's own fault he hadn't had anything to eat for so long. "I was actually on my way down there," she admitted, pulling herself away from the wall and heading towards the stairs. "May I join you?"

"Only if you want to," he replied shortly.

She rolled her eyes but started down the stairs, choosing to ignore his sulking. They walked in silence until they reached the kitchen, which was several floors down. Then, as Ginny got down a glass for herself and filled it at the sink, she decided to break the ice.

"Is there any specific reason why you're hiding from all of us lately," she asked as calmly as she could, which she feared did not come across as calm at all. "Ron has been very worried about you."

Harry scoffed. "Then why won't he look me in the eye?"

"Maybe because you've locked yourself upstairs," she suggested in a rush before taking a long gulp of water. She did this in such quick succession that she choked a little as she drank, which detracted greatly from her comment.

"Very funny," he snapped.

"Well honestly, Harry," she sighed. "We weren't about to come and demand that you be sociable. Is that what you wanted?"

"No," he snapped.

"Then how did you expect us to react?" She was slightly taken aback by her own bravery. Perhaps it had come from her irritation with Harry's attitude of late, but it was hard for her to understand how she could go from running away in embarrassment one day to confronting him openly another.

"You all heard what Moody said, Ginny," he muttered darkly. "I know you all think I'm possessed now."

"_I_ don't think you're possessed. In fact, I'm almost positive you're not," she said in frustration.

There was a long pause before Harry spoke. "Why not?" he demanded.

"Because, of all the people you know, I'm the only one to have ever been possessed," she said. "If you were worried about that, why didn't you come and talk to me?"

"I—" he started, then stopped abruptly. "I didn't even think…"

"Of course not," she whispered, more to herself than to him. "Everybody else has put that behind them. Nobody remembers anymore that I actually went through that three years ago."

"Ginny," he mumbled, "I'm sorry."

She shrugged and turned her back on him under the pretense that she was refilling her glass.

"I…what _is_ it like?" he asked softly.

She licked her lips and took a slow, steady breath before answering. "Are there blank spaces in your memory? When Tom Riddle was using me to open the chamber…or to kill chickens…or…whatever else, there were times when I'd wake up covered in blood and feathers and I wouldn't know why. I'd do things and never know anything about it until they were announced to the school."

He didn't reply for some time, the silence practically sounding like thought. "No, I haven't had any gaps like that."

"That's what I thought," she said softly. "If you really were being possessed by You-Know-Who, he'd have you do lots of different things, he'd use you. I don't think he'd possess you just to make you have nightmares about attacking my dad."

Again Harry was silent and this time Ginny was thinking too. It _didn't_ make sense for Voldemort to use someone he was possessing through nightmares. It was too impractical. Despite the fact that she still had no firm answer to her problem, she was comforted when she thought of this. The dreams couldn't be a sign of being possessed. That just wasn't like the Dark Lord.

"I'm sorry, Ginny," he said after some time. "I should have realized…I should have remembered…."

"It's fine," she cut him off. "No big deal." She looked down at the full glass in her hand and realized that she didn't want any more water. She wanted to get away, to be alone. She set down the glass and headed for the door. "I'll see you later, I guess."

For a moment, she was afraid he would follow her. But then she thought about it and realized that, of course, he didn't care that much. It was like she told Sirius that morning; she was always going to be just the little sister.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; not the plot, not the setting, not the characters. I'm just making a few changes. You should be able to recognize them. =D

A/N: Hey everyone! I'd like to thank you all for sticking with this, even though I know it's a slightly slower fic. Hopefully from this point on it will get more interesting. Stick with me guys, I really need your reviews! They help so much. And thanks to those who are giving constructive criticism. It's what makes any writer better and it is totally welcome. Please, please don't hesitate! Tell me what you think!

Chapter 10

Ginny wet her lips nervously. She wasn't listening to the sounds of her siblings standing behind her or taking in the fact that both Ron and Harry looked a little shaken. They were at St. Mungo's again, about to head back to Grimmauld Place at any moment. For a good deal of the time they were there they'd been split up. Harry and Ron had gone off in one direction and Ginny had followed the twins in another. Now that they were standing in front of her father's room again, she found that the determination she'd gathered over the past hour was starting to dissolve. She stood very still, watching the door as if hoping it would swing open of its own accord and pull her in so that she wouldn't have to muster up the courage to do it herself. This, of course, did not happen and it wasn't until Mrs. Weasley called her name that she was pulled out of her trance.

"Come on, Ginny, we're leaving," her mother was saying, shepherding the others down the hallway. "We'll come back again soon."

Ginny bit her lip and tried to force the words out of her mouth. They didn't come. She took a step after her mother and stopped.

"We haven't got all day, dear," Mrs. Weasley sighed.

"Mum," Ginny managed before stopping again. She'd already made up her mind, why was she faltering now? Her mother turned around to face her and the words came tumbling out. "I need to talk to Dad." She'd said them so fast, she wasn't sure they'd been intelligible and, based off of the look Mrs. Weasley was giving her, it wasn't likely that they were.

"Well," her mother started slowly, "another day perhaps."

"No, it has to be now," Ginny insisted, knowing that she probably seemed very spoiled as she said it. This was met with silence so she said, "It's important," hoping that would help.

Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips. "Your father's getting his medication right now, Ginny. In a moment he'll be asleep."

"I'll try and be quick, but I have to talk to him today," Ginny said in a rush. What she didn't add was _If I don't I won't ever be brave enough to do it later_. "Please?"

Her mother let out a small sigh. "All right. The rest of us will wait down in the lobby." She looked around at the others as if to say _Get to it_ and then added, "Be as quick as you can. We really do need to go."

Ginny nodded and then spun around and opened the door, all in one movement so that she wouldn't lose her nerve. Sure enough, the other patients in the room had fallen asleep and Mr. Weasley was drinking a potion offered to him by a young Healer. As soon as he set the goblet down, he began to look drowsy. He caught sight of Ginny though and a smile brightened his sleepy features. "Ginny, what are you doing here?"

She forced herself to walk the length of the room and sit in the chair next to him.

"I'll get out of your way," the Healer said with a kind smile.

Mr. Weasley turned himself so that he was facing his daughter. "What is it, dear?" he asked pleasantly. "I thought you'd left already."

Ginny reached out and picked up his hand from off his chest. He gave hers a slight squeeze and then she took a deep breath, bracing herself for what was to come. "I have to tell you something important," she said softly.

"All right, go ahead."

She tried to swallow but it took a lot more effort than usual. "The night you were attacked, Harry had that dream about you," she started, not sure why she'd chosen to bring Harry into it. "He saw you and the snake and the whole thing."

Mr. Weasley nodded slowly. "Yes." He left the word hanging, almost like a question, as if he was asking why she was talking about this when it seemed so trivial.

"I had a dream that night, too," she continued. She stared fixedly at his hand, afraid that if she looked at his face she'd be unable to keep going. "A nightmare. About…about you."

He took a deep breath and Ginny braced herself for the worst. But when she looked up she realized he was yawning.

"I'm listening, sweetheart," he assured her. "Go on."

"It was about you," she said again, trying to emphasize the significance of this. He simply nodded, his eyes drooping. If she wanted him to hear the whole thing, she would have to speak fast. "I saw the same thing that Harry did." The words came rushing out. "I watched you get attacked, but that wasn't all. I…." the words caught in her throat and she lowered her head to hide the tears that stung her eyes. "I _was_ the snake that attacked you."

She couldn't look at him anymore. She needed to continue but she'd lost the will. Her hand gripped his as tightly as she could; he was an anchor to reality just then, her assurance that he was still there. This wasn't a nightmare, this was real. Her life had turned upside down in the past few months. It was no longer the safe and reliable life she had gotten used to. Perhaps she was wrong; perhaps it was really a nightmare. But not one she could escape. It would always be there, hanging over her because her dreams were her reality now. And the reality she had once known was no more. So she held on to his hand, hoping that he, as the last remaining part of her old reality, would make things somehow go back to the way they were before.

The words she had not been able to say before came now, not of her own will but because she knew they must be said. She tried to keep her voice level but she was sure that she must have sounded close to hysteria.

"I was the snake. I tried to kill you, I _wanted_ to kill you." She wondered why her father gave no response, but continued without pause. "I could feel You-Know-Who in my mind, like he was controlling me—the snake. It wasn't like seeing things from the snake's perspective, it was like being the snake. I really was the snake. I don't know how…I don't know how. But I was."

She brushed the tears away with one hand, still holding her father's with the other. "And before that night…I've had others. Lots of others. It's been one nightmare after another for months and months now. I don't sleep right. I don't want to eat. I'm afraid of every sound I hear. I'm not _me _anymore!"

Suddenly, a soft snore alerted her to the fact that her audience had fallen asleep, perhaps long ago. How much had he heard, if any of it? She watched his peaceful face, lost in sleep, wondering why she'd even bothered to tell him. It was her burden to bear and sharing it didn't seem wise. If she told anyone else, they might think that she was possessed, just as they thought about Harry. They'd try to find out what was wrong with her, and they wouldn't be able to. Only she could, she realized. She was going to have to fight this alone.

Sighing, she stood and wiped away the tears with the back of her hand. Her face was probably all red from crying, but there was nothing she could do about that. If she waited much longer her mother would be up there looking for her.

Someone cleared their throat and Ginny leapt about two feet in the air. She spun around and, horrified, saw Harry standing there, looking guilty.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly, but she wasn't listening.

She rushed out of the room, racing right past him and running down the hallway to the lift, feeling her face flush with embarrassment, anger, and fear. How long had he been there? How much had he heard? She couldn't bear to think that he might have seen the whole thing, but it was too likely for her to hope otherwise. Angrily, she jabbed her finger at the down button and then leaned her back against the wall, burring her face in her hands.

Footsteps behind her told her Harry had followed her out to the elevators. She knew it would happen, but she was determined to get away from him, so instead of waiting for the lift she spun around and headed for the stairs. But before she could reach the door, Harry was there, standing in her way. She brushed past him, ducking into the stairwell and hurrying down the first flight before she heard him call after her.

"Ginny! Ginny—wait!" he said, his voice worried though she couldn't think why.

"How much did you hear?" she shouted, surprised by the volume and anger in her voice.

"Ginny—"

"How long were you standing there?"

She didn't stop to wait for his answer. She just kept running. Her feet pounded against the stone stairs and the sound echoed loudly throughout the staircase. Only a short way behind her now, she could hear Harry's footsteps as well. She tried to move faster, but as she rounded another turn and was about to run down the final flight of stairs, Harry jumped the last few steps of the previous flight and caught her by the elbow before she could go any farther.

"Ginny, listen to me," he said somewhat breathlessly.

"How could you have eavesdropped on me?" she demanded, pressing herself up against the railing as she tried to pull away from him. His hand dropped from her arm but she did not attempt to run again. She stared at him as if she didn't know what to make of him, and at that moment, she didn't.

"I wasn't trying to eavesdrop, I swear," he said firmly. "I didn't mean to overhear."

She looked away from him, disbelieving.

"Your mum was getting anxious so I came up to get you. When I came in I didn't know if I should disturb you or wait until you were done." He looked nervous, as though afraid he might scare her. "When I heard my name—"

Ginny's eyes widened in horror. "You…you heard that much?" she whispered.

"I'm sorry," he said again.

She leaned against the wall and slowly slid down it until she was sitting. Her head was spinning and she could feel her face turning red. He knew. He knew about her and the nightmares and the snake. Before she thought this might have been a good thing, but at that moment she realized that it was the last thing she wanted in the world. She pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around them, and let her head drop onto her knees, hiding her face.

There was an awkward pause and then she heard Harry sit beside her. She wanted to disappear. Why did it have to be him? Why couldn't it have been someone—anyone—else?

He spoke again and this time she was taken aback by the gentleness of his tone. "Why didn't you say something?" he asked softly.

She raised her eyes to his and answered in a whisper. "I didn't know what to say." He started to speak again but she cut him off quickly. "What could I have said?"

"Anything," he insisted. "Just something so that someone could have helped you. Why would you hide this?"

"Why would I tell anyone?" she answered simply. "If I'd told someone…what could they have done? Give me dreamless sleep potions and appetite stimulants?" She let the words sink in for a moment before she continued. "My mother would have worried too much about something she couldn't change and my father would have gone to Dumbledore. I didn't want that."

He looked away, as if ashamed; though of what she couldn't tell. Quietly he said, "You could have told me."

"No," she murmured, smiling sadly. "No, I couldn't. I hardly know you, Harry. I couldn't have gone to you."

"But I understand what you're going through," he said, turning to face her again. "I'm going through the same thing!"

"Would you really have wanted to hear about it?" she asked. "If I'd come up to you would you have listened even before you knew what I had to say?" He was silent for a moment and she shook her head slowly. "You wouldn't, would you?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came.

She sighed and stood, turning away from him to walk down the remaining flight. After a moment, he rose and followed her, catching her by the elbow again. "I'll listen now," he promised steadily. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I wouldn't have listened before. But I will now." His eyes locked with hers and she found herself thinking about how red and puffy her eyes must be, though why her mind wandered to that subject she didn't know.

"Thanks," she managed to say before she turned away again. "But…"

"But what?" he asked, sounding surprised that there was a 'but' at all.

She chewed on the inside of her cheek for a moment before gathering her courage and lifting her head so she could look at him. "I'm not sure I'm ready yet," she said.

His hand dropped back to his side. They stared at each other for a long moment but Ginny couldn't read his face. He seemed confused, as though not sure whether he should insist he help, or simply back off and let her be. Eventually, she slowly began to walk toward the exit. He stood at the top of the stairs for a moment after she had reached the bottom and didn't move until he heard Mrs. Weasley's voice on the other side scolding Ginny for taking so long. 


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; not the plot, not the setting, not the characters. I'm just making a few changes. You should be able to recognize them. =D

A/N: Hey everyone! Thanks for still reading! But, really people, where are the reviews? Right now the chapters almost outnumber them. I know there are way more than eleven of you reading, so if like this story enough to make it to chapter eleven you should like it enough to share your opinion. Please review!!!

Chapter 11

The train was surprisingly quiet for how crowded it was. Ginny sat by the window listening to the rushing of the cars through the underground, the only sound louder than a whispered conversation. There wasn't much to see, but she stared fixedly through the glass without taking her eyes away until the sound of someone sitting next to her caught her attention. She turned to look at her new companion but quickly returned to gazing out the window when she saw who it was.

"Are you sure you don't need to talk about it?" Harry asked softly, keeping the quiet of the train virtually undisturbed.

"What's there to talk about?" she sighed. Her eyes remained focused on a fly sitting on the glass. "Like I said, nobody can help me with this. This is my burden to bear."

"And mine," he pointed out. "I'm having these dreams too."

"The difference is I haven't told anyone and you have," she said levelly.

He was silent for a moment, and Ginny was afraid she'd offended him. But when he spoke again his voice was even and unaffected. "Agreed." He shifted in his seat. "And you might have noticed that that got something done."

"It's also going mean that Dumbledore will be watching you extra carefully now," she insisted. "You might even get special protection or some other unnecessary precaution because they don't know what's wrong with you."

"I've already got special protection," he said bitterly.

She gave no reply. Her hands twisted in her lap while she watched the fly clean its two front legs. Its wings fluttered uselessly, twitching like two pieces of tissue paper in the wind. Someone at the back of the car cleared their throat and it sounded like an explosion compared to the silence of the other passengers.

"Can I make you a deal?" Harry asked suddenly. "Once it's over I promise to leave you alone about the subject."

She frowned, but turned to face him, interested despite herself. She gave a short nod and Harry continued.

"If I find out what's happening to me and I can figure out a way to make it stop, you have to try the same thing." He let the proposition hang there for a moment before saying anything else. "Deal?"

For an instant, she was tempted to say yes, but she caught herself before she let the word leave her mouth. "No deal," she whispered, turning to face the window again.

"What? Why?" he demanded in disbelief.

"Because I don't know what that method might be—it might be anything!" She was angry at herself for being so afraid, but knew somehow that it was the best choice. "It might work for you, but who says the same thing will work for me? We don't even know if we're having the dreams for the same reason." She bit her lip and took a deep breath. "In fact," she said slowly, "excluding the dream about my dad, I don't think we're dreaming about the same things at all. They might be totally unrelated." Though she didn't entirely believe it, the words did make sense to her. It was possible that this was just a huge coincidence. Likely? No. But possible.

Harry's reflection in the glass was frowning, a crease forming in his brow. "But what if it _is_ happening for the same reason? If I find a way to stop all this, wouldn't you want to use it too?"

She sighed and shook her head, leaning back against the seat as though trying to disappear into it. "Maybe. I'll have to think about it. If you find a cure…I'll think about it." She turned her head but otherwise stayed facing the window. "Okay?"

Still frowning, he nodded. Then, after another long pause, he stood and moved over to sit by Ron.

*****

All too soon they were on the Night Bus headed back for Hogwarts. For the first time in her life, Ginny dreaded returning to school. The holidays, though stressful, had been a break from the routine she'd gotten herself into over the last few months and it had been a real relief. She'd still had nightmares and she'd still been worried all the time, but at least she could keep herself busy with things that weren't the DA and her "The OWL Exams and You" book. And, though she still wasn't sure she was happy about this, she no longer had to keep the secret entirely to herself. But would that change when she went back to school? She doubted Harry would have time for her problems after they got back into the flow of Hogwarts. He'd be too busy with too many other things to remember her. That was both comforting and disappointing. On the one hand, she was glad to know that he wouldn't be on her case all the time. On the other, it might have been nice to have someone she could share her troubles with.

It was harder to get back into the routine Ginny had created for herself than she had expected upon arriving at Hogwarts. She was exhausted in a way that she had not been before. Instead of simply feeling her lack of sleep she was now struggling to get her mind and body to obey her commands at all. Before her grades had soared because of her late night studying and she had been the top of her class. When she first got back to Hogwarts her grades were plummeting so fast her teachers didn't know how to respond. She felt lost and confused. The dreams were less intense than those she'd had over the holidays, but they were still frequent and frightening enough to keep her awake at night. She struggled to keep herself afloat in her classes and after a while things began to level out but it was no longer a simple task. She even began risking going to sleep at decent hours; the amount of sleep she was getting did not change.

The DA was no longer much help either. Her performance there had always been good but it was steadily getting worse. Every practice she was less alert, less capable. And—to her great annoyance—Harry could tell. It wasn't until after she was paired with Neville and he repeatedly was able to disarm and hex her that Harry took notice, but from that point on she had to avoid him to keep from being interrogated about how she was doing. That wasn't too hard to do. They had no classes together, she spent most of her free time in the library (Harry, on a normal day, would not choose to be caught there), and she ate so little that she was out of the Great Hall before he was even in it on most days. She also had Quidditch practice which helped her stay clear of him. But even there she was clearly doing worse. Angelina would have fired Ginny if they hadn't been so desperate for a Seeker; and since no one else in Griffindor (aside from Harry, who was out of the question) could play the position anywhere near as well, she had no choice but to keep Ginny on the team.

Her life was falling apart around her and she had no way of knowing how to put it back together.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; not the plot, not the setting, not the characters. I'm just making a few changes. You should be able to recognize them. =D

A/N: Hey everyone! Thanks for still reading! But, really people, where are the reviews? Right now the chapters almost outnumber them. I know there are way more than eleven of you reading, so if like this story enough to make it to chapter twelve you should like it enough to share your opinion. Please review!!!

Chapter 12

Ginny's head snapped up and she forced her eyes open. She was in the Great Hall amidst hundreds of other students talking and laughing, yet somehow she had managed to fall asleep. Shaking herself free of her drowsiness (at least somewhat) she piled her plate high and began eating, hoping that it would fight off her fatigue. The noise of the others around her seemed mashed together into one ever-changing sound rather than the individual voices; the hum was hypnotic and Ginny wondered if it hadn't been the thing that put her to sleep. She'd just returned from Quidditch practice and her hair was still wet from the showers. Her Weasley sweater felt too thin and she shivered even though the packed room was toasty warm. This only added to her exhaustion; her limbs were already heavy and numb with it and being cold made her feel sluggish and unwilling to move. Lifting the fork was an almost unmanageable task.

With a sigh, she dropped her arm on the table and raised her hand enough for her to rest her head in it. Across from her was the Ravenclaw table and absently she stared at a group of boys who she thought might be in her year. She almost recognized some of them, but she'd been so preoccupied this year that she hardly remembered anyone that was her age. One of the boys, dark haired and quiet-looking, was watching her watch him and—had she been aware enough to care—Ginny might have been embarrassed. But the boy didn't seem the least bit disturbed by her gaze, and he even managed to smile at her. She smiled back slightly, though she wasn't sure why. She quickly dropped her gaze because someone much closer had caught her attention.

Harry slid into the seat in front of her, blocking her view of the boy. He had a determined look on his face that told her she didn't want to hear what he was about to say. She immediately began to pack her things to go.

"At least hear me out," Harry said defensively, watching her gather her Quidditch and book bags. "I come in peace."

She stopped long enough to give him a funny look and he cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Look, I just want to talk."

Replacing a book that had fallen from her pack, Ginny sighed and said, "I'm doing just fine. You don't need to keep checking up on me."

"I'm not trying to check up on you," he insisted. "I've come to make an offer."

Shocked that he was daring to bring this up again, she turned to face him. It took a lot of will power not to give him a very dirty look. "I believe I already turned it down," she said quietly.

"It's not that kind of offer," he assured her.

She pursed her lips. "Then what kind of offer is it?"

He leaned forward, lowering his voice a little and Ginny found herself leaning in as well so that she could hear him better. "Ron, Hermione, and I are going to Hogsmead together this weekend and we'd like you to come."

She was slightly taken aback. A quick look down the table told her that Ron and Hermione were indeed looking over at them, though they seemed more confused than expectant and that made Ginny a little doubtful. "And you're the messenger of this request?" she asked, still watching her brother's expression.

"Actually," Harry said slowly, "it was my idea. You need a break—a real, actually relaxing break—and I figured since we're going you should just join us."

"So you made an executive decision?" She was looking at him again, now a little bit interested.

Frowning somewhat at her last comment, Harry shrugged. "I guess. Look—" he glanced over at Hermione and Ron and then immediately turned back to her "I want you along. You may say you're doing okay but I know what it's like. You need to enjoy yourself a little bit or you're going to work yourself crazy. I'm not blind, Ginny."

She stared fixedly at her plate, feeling his eyes on her and hating that she was so see through. Obviously she was having trouble but she'd hoped that she was hiding that at least a little. According to Harry, everyone could tell quite easily that Ginny was losing her grip.

"Harry," she started cautiously, "I really don't want to deal with this right now."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded. Clearly he wasn't going to let her get out of this.

"It means I don't want to spend an entire day being watched by Hermione and my brother," she sighed. "It's bad enough that you keep trying to confront me about this, they'll be even worse. I've been avoiding them for months because they were so upset about this earlier."

"That's not the way to handle this," he said.

"You're one to talk," she pointed out. "At the beginning of the year you were no better off than me. And at Christmas—"

"Well it's not the beginning of the year anymore, Ginny, and I'm not hiding from them now," he cut her off defensively. He shook his head but when he spoke again his tone was wore gentle. "Trust me, I know. It's just not the way to do things. Avoiding them now will make things worse in the end."

She wanted to tell him to mind his own business. She hated the fact that he was giving her advice about how to handle things when she knew he was having problems of his own. But still, he was right. And that made it even worse.

"I want you to come," he repeated. "Please, Ginny."

She looked up at him and sighed. His green eyes were pleading and she felt like kicking herself. "Fine. I'll go."

His face broke into a grin. "Excellent," he said firmly. "It won't be that bad, I promise."

She hated herself for being so easily dissuaded. She knew, and hoped against hope that he did not, that it was because of what he'd said there at the end. _"I want you to come."_ Hadn't she, for the last four years of her life, wished that Harry Potter would want her to be around? But now that he was saying it she hated that she was weak enough to give into it. All he had to do was show her those bright, innocent eyes and she gave in. Instead of answering, she picked up her bags and began to leave. She had a lot of homework to do and highly doubted she'd be able to stay awake through all of it. Not to mention she was eager to get out of there. But Harry wasn't done. He stood as well and followed her out of the Great Hall.

"One last thing," he said quickly, sounding guilty. "Just promise you'll hear me through."

Rolling her eyes she said, "I promise. What is it?"

He stopped and she did too, despite her desire to get away from him and everyone else. Once again, she knew it was because of his power over her, a power that she really wished would disappear. It was really was embarrassing in too many ways.

Harry took a deep breath before he continued. "I think I might know a way to make the dreams stop."

Now she was mad. She spun on her heel and marched off, fuming inside. He's promised he wasn't going to bring that up again!

"Ginny! Ginny—wait!"

He wasn't going to stop her now. She was determined to get away from him, for his safety as much as for her own comfort. Even with everything that had been going on recently she hadn't forgotten how to perform a powerful Bat-Boogey hex.

"Ginny, stop!"

She was already up to the third floor. He was gaining on her though, so she quickened her pace. But not soon enough. Before they reached the fourth landing, Harry managed to race passed her and block her path. For a moment she considered going for her wand, but he cut off her train of thought.

"Ginny, you promised!" he pleaded. His hands were on her shoulders, stopping her from turning to run away or from pushing past him. She struggled to break free of his grip but he held firm and finally she looked up at him, their eyes locking. His were dark, a little bit angry, but more intense than anything else. Her own she knew held a mixture of frustration, fear, and embarrassment. "Please just listen for a minute."

"No, Harry," she said softly. "I already said no to this."

"You promised you'd listen if I found a way, remember?" he insisted. "You said you'd consider it."

She sighed heavily and looked down. "Fine."

He slackened his grip slightly, but did not let go. "It's called Occlumency," he started. "It's basically blocking your mind so that nobody else can get into it."

"How does that help me?" she demanded, confused. Hadn't they already ruled out being possessed? Or was that what he was suggesting? Her heart sped up a little at the thought.

Harry wet his lips before continuing. "Dumbledore thinks there's a connection between my mind and Voldemort's. That's why I've been seeing all these things and having all these dreams. It's a link that was formed between us when he attacked me as a baby. So I can see into his mind and…"

"He can see into yours?" Ginny finished it as a panicked question.

"Hopefully not," Harry said as casually as possible. "But it is possible, now that he's become aware of the connection. So I have to learn to use Occlumency so he can't get into my mind."

There was a pause as he let the words sink in. Taking a deep breath, Ginny said, "I still don't understand how this would help me though."

Harry shifted his weight slightly from his right foot to his left and then back again. "Actually, I'm not sure it will. But," he added before she could say anything, "I think that it can. There might be a connection between you and Voldemort as well—"

"How?" she sighed. "And why?"

"When you found Tom Riddle's Diary, I think you may have formed a connection then, after he started to…" he trailed off, looking nervous, as though unsure if he'd offended her. "I mean," he continued in a rush, "I think that a link formed between you two then and now you're going through the same thing I am. And if that's true, then Occlumency would help you too."

She was silent for a moment. The idea was perfectly logical. Frightening, but possible—and at least it was better than being possessed, again. For some reason she was now very aware of Harry's hands on her shoulders and she squirmed slightly under their weight. He did not remove them.

"Did you come up with this idea," her voice was barely more than a whisper, "or did Dumbledore?"

"I haven't told anyone about you, Ginny," he assured her, answering her unasked question.

Had she really been holding her breath?

"So how would I learn Occlumency?" she said after taking a few slow swallows of air.

Now he looked uncomfortable. "You'd have to tell Dumbledore," he admitted. "And you'd have lessons with me…and Snape."

"Snape?" she repeated, pulling out from his relaxed grasp.

"Snape's been teaching me," he said by way of an answer.

She stared at him incredulously. Did he really expect her to tell Snape what was happening to her? Snape?

"I don't think I can do that, Harry," she mumbled, wishing she were braver.

"You wouldn't be alone," he promised her. "You'd be with me." Did he know that was her weakness, or had his exploitation of her been accidental? "It wouldn't be too bad." She could tell he was trying hard to leave out details about how awful it had already been. It would be too bad; too bad to handle, or even attempt.

"Harry…"

"It'll help," he insisted. "It can help a lot."

"Has it helped you any?" she demanded, already knowing the answer by watching his reaction. He said nothing for a long moment, but she watched him steadily so that he knew he could not ignore the question.

"Not much, no," he confessed. "But I've only had a few lessons…"

Once again his words trailed off into silence. They looked at each other and both knew what was going to happen next. Ginny couldn't say yes to this. No one must know. It might have been a good idea, even the best idea. But Tom Riddle's Diary had made Ginny cautious and secretive, and she wasn't about to tell anybody about this unless there was no other way. There had to be another way.

"I can't, Harry," she said finally. She shrugged her shoulders once in apology. She had nothing else to offer.

Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets and stepped to the side, allowing her to pass by him. It was his way of giving up on her and Ginny felt her heart sink. She wished she could change her mind, but she also knew that was not what she wanted. Feeling like a horrible person, she climbed past him, clutching her book bag to her chest. She rounded a corner and Harry passed out of sight. Every step carried her father away and with every stair she considered turning around again.

"Ginny!"

She froze. Footsteps were approaching from behind. He called out to her again and this time she responded.

"Yes?" She said it so softly she wondered if he even heard her.

He came around the corner then and stood about six steps below her, his eyes obscured by the torchlight reflecting off his glasses.

"Would you do it if I taught you?" he asked, lifting a hand to rest his fist against the wall. "No one else would have to know."

She turned so that she was facing him fully and contemplated him for a moment. His fist opened and closed as he waited and she focused on it when she answered.

"Yes. I think I would."

He smiled slightly. "Okay. You sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Then…whenever you're free…"

"Sundays," she said absently. "I have Quidditch most other nights…"

"Great," he responded enthusiastically. "It'll help, Ginny, I promise."

She nodded, and didn't say anything. He removed his fist from the wall, but she continued to stare at the place where it had been.

"See you at Hogsmead then," he said by way of a farewell, then turned to walk back down the stairs.

"Harry," she called after him.

"Yeah?" he said, not bothering to turn around.

"Thanks."


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; not the plot, not the setting, not the characters. I'm just making a few changes. You should be able to recognize them. =D

A/N: Hey everyone! Thanks for still reading! And thanks for the new reviews! Please, please keep them up! For those of you still not reviewing, I really would love it if you would start. Right now the chapters still almost outnumber the reviews! I know there are way more than fifteen of you reading, so if like this story enough to make it to chapter thirteen you should like it enough to share your opinion. Please review!!! One other quick note: I want to know if you think I should continue this story into the seventh book. Currently it's supposed to end with the sixth book but if you feel like I should continue, then I will. Please, let me know! In your next review or in a PM just say yea or nay. Thanks!

Chapter 13

Ginny ran a hand through her hair and frowned as it caught in the tangled mess. Quidditch practice had been especially windy that day and her eyes were still stinging from the last dive she'd taken. But she hadn't taken the time to brush her hair or even wash her face. She'd been even more off in today's practice than usual, and as soon as Angelina was done telling them that they hadn't been _that_ bad, she'd pulled off her Quidditch robes and jumped into her school ones fast enough to be out of there before she could notice the irritated looks Alicia and Katie were giving her.

She let out a long sigh and settled back into her cloak. It was still bitterly cold and she was miserable from spending the past few hours being tossed around by the frosty wind and an icy mist that couldn't make up its mind about how much water was still in the ominous grey clouds overhead. Her mood was further darkened by the mountain of homework waiting for her. Somehow, though she was finally managing to get her grades up to where they had been before Christmas break, she felt like she was swamped with homework all the time, something that had never happened early in the year. Before she'd been so far ahead she hardly needed to work at all to do well in her classes.

The sun was sinking behind the Forbidden Forest and the castle was dark and foreboding in the shadows cast by the sunset. She ran a hand across her eyes, feeling like she was trying to iron them open. She couldn't entirely make it out, but it looked like there was someone standing by the great oak doors. As she came closer, her heart beat a little faster and she mentally kicked herself. Harry stood shivering at the top of the stairs, looking extremely awkward and unhappy. She approached at a purposefully slow pace and kept her face as unreadable as possible, though she felt as uncomfortable as Harry looked. After a moment of silent hesitation, he took a few steps forward and forced a smile she could barely see in the dim light.

"Hey," he said in an attempt at casualty.

"Hey," she answered without stopping.

"Um, can we talk?" he asked in a rush. She turned to face him and he shrugged guiltily.

"Sure." For some reason her stomach was twisting uncomfortably. What was coming next couldn't be pleasant, Harry looked too uncomfortable.

For a moment he shuffled from one foot to the other, staring down at the flagstone's below as he did so. Then, sounding like he was avoiding the actual subject he said, "On Sunday…are we still on for Occlumency?"

"Oh," Ginny said, somewhat surprised. She'd completely forgotten about their plans for Sunday. A sudden rush of nerves and second thoughts ran through her head. "Yeah, I guess."

"Um…great," he said after a pause. He wasn't sounding the least bit convincing. "I'll meet you at dinner then?"

She nodded, then remembered he wasn't looking at her. "Yeah. That sounds fine." Part of her was unsure why he seemed so uncomfortable, the rest of her knew that real purpose of the conversation was yet to unfold and she wasn't exactly dancing with anticipation to find out what it was.

As if he realized what she was thinking, Harry took a deep breath and then charged ahead in a way that announced the true subject without any preface. "I know I asked you to go to Hogsmead with Hermione and Ron and me, but…Cho just asked me to go with her and…I hope you don't mind." He gave her a nervous look, halfway between an awkward apology and eagerness at the idea of being on a date with Cho. "I mean," he continued before she could say anything, "You can still go with Ron and Hermione. You should," he added a little more firmly. "Maybe next time…."

"It's fine," she said louder than she'd intended. Harry looked like he'd been struck and she felt like hitting herself. "Have a great time Harry."

"I'll see you Sunday then?" he blurted out.

"Yeah. Great." Suddenly the idea of Occlumency lessons held less appeal than jumping into the ice-cold Black Lake and being attacked by the Giant Squid.

She pushed passed him, hoping that this time he wouldn't follow her. She didn't want to talk about it anymore. If he wanted to go off with Cho, who was she to stop him? Nobody. Not even his friend. It hit her with painful force. She had zero importance in his life, aside from being his best friend's little sister. He was free to do whatever he wanted. She didn't care. At least, that's what she was telling herself.

Making a split second decision, she turned away from the Great Hall and raced up the stairs towards the library. She'd skip dinner tonight and start on her homework. There wasn't any point in forcing herself to do something she'd rather not do anyway.

The library was almost entirely empty that night and Ginny said a silent prayer of thanks. She wanted to be alone, totally alone just then and, finding a table in the back of the room, she pilled her books high around her creating a wall to block her from the rest of the world. Dragging out a sheaf of parchment, a bottle of ink, and a quill she was about to set to work on a particularly nasty essay for History of Magic, but her ink bottle would not open. Feeling her eyes start to sting, and hating herself for it, she yanked as hard as she could at the cork, but it would not budge.

"Ugh!" she grunted, trying to twist the stopper out without much success. "Stupid…bottle…!"

Giving it one final desperate tug, the plug came loose and black ink spots rained down on her books, papers, and robes. A long, despondent sigh escaped her lips and she felt tears threaten to overwhelm her. She buried her face in her hands and tried to keep in the scream that was fighting its way up her throat and out of her mouth. There were few things Ginny hated more than crying and she despised the fact that she had spent so much time crying over the past year. She felt weak and uncertain of herself, something that, after her first year, had become increasingly less of a problem. Until that year when—all of the sudden—she was halfway to a nervous breakdown what seemed like every other day. More than anything she wanted to feel strong and independent, confident. But how could she?  
"Er…you need help with that?" said an unfamiliar voice.

Ginny jumped, pulling her hands away from her face and then quickly bringing them back to check that it was dry. For a second, she wondered who on earth was standing in front of her. Then, after giving him a quick look, she recognized him as the boy who'd been watching her the other day at dinner. It made her all the more self-conscious and her cheeks burned away whatever tears might have been there. "No. Thank you."

He looked a little disappointed, but nodded and started to step back. His face was kind and sort of good looking, she admitted to herself, but he seemed sheepish, a little too easily dissuaded. She let out a long sigh and he turned back toward her again.

"You sure?" he asked.

She opened her mouth to answer, but he had already pulled out his wand and, giving it a little wave, he said, "Scourgafy."

Most of the black spots on her books and papers disappeared, some leaving little grey or blue smudges to prove their existence, and all the ink disappeared from off her robes. "Thanks," she said a little awkwardly.

"No problem." His smile broadened a little and he took a step forward, offering his hand for her to shake. "Michael Corner, I'm in your Potions class. And your History of Magic class. For the past four years. And I was in your Flying class, back in first year."

Slightly taken aback by how easily he recognized her, and feeling slightly bad about the fact that she hadn't even known his name, she tried to smile back, though she was sure it didn't look very convincing.

"I remember you," she half-lied. "I'm sorry I didn't remember your name."

"They were big classes," he shrugged it off, also a lie. Then, as an afterthought, "And I'm not in Gryffindor, so…" he trailed off and looked down at the floor.

She was starting to wish he'd go away. Pulling her parchment toward her, she dipped her quill into her inkwell and wrote her name at the top of it, then a title for her essay. She thought that was enough of a hint to send Michael off to do his own work, but she wasn't so lucky. Clearing her throat as subtlety as possible, she pulled a pile of books closer to her as another signal to her unwelcome visitor, which, of course, he didn't take. Instead, to her absolute horror, he sat down.

"Hey," he said slowly, "I was wondering…you're not busy this weekend are you?"

She was sure her eyes were as wide as sand dollars.

"Cause, I was wondering if you might want to…I mean…it's a Hogsmead weekend…."

"Um…Michael," she started nervously.

"Would you like to go to Hogsmead with me?"

He was giving her such a hopeful look that it was painful to watch him. She shifted in her seat and licked her lips. "Michael…."

"You don't have to," he said quickly. "I mean I know we don't know each other that well—or really at all—but I'd like to get to know you. A little bit, maybe?" He looked down at his hands which were twisting his lap. "Sorry."

"No, don't be," she sighed. An image of herself after the Yule Ball with very sore feet came into her mind as she thought of her soft spot for boys asking her out, no matter how little she wanted to go with them. She also thought of what it would be like to spend the weekend with Ron and Hermione, or alone, again. "I'd…I'd love to go with you."


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; not the plot, not the setting, not the characters. I'm just making a few changes. You should be able to recognize them. =D

A/N: Hey everyone! Thanks for still reading! And thanks for the new reviews! Please, please keep them up! For those of you still not reviewing, I really would love it if you would start. Please review!!! One other quick note: I want to know if you think I should continue this story into the seventh book. Currently it's supposed to end with the sixth book but if you feel like I should continue, then I will. Please, let me know! In your next review or in a PM just say yea or nay. Thanks!

Chapter 14

Saturday arrived and Ginny found herself even less exited about what was going to happen than she had been when she'd first said yes to Michael Corner. For a long time she lay awake in bed thinking of excuses not to meet him, but none of them were good enough to take away the guilt she knew she would feel if she didn't go. He was a nice guy and he didn't deserve to be stood up.

Dating at Hogwarts was an interesting thing. Because it was a private school where everyone was essentially cooped up inside the grounds for months at a time, it wasn't like you could actually go out on a real date. Hogsmead was the perfect place for couples because it was the only place that resembled the outside world enough to be considered date material. Most people's first dates were at Hogsmead, most people broke up at Hogsmead, and most couples looked forward to Hogsmead as a way to do more than hold hands in the corridors and skip classes to go and snog in a broom cupboard. For all of the above reasons, Ginny was dreading what was about to come. A date was a big deal at Hogwarts, since dating was so scarce. The last thing she wanted was for Michael to think that her going to Hogsmead with him was a serious thing, or worse, for everyone else to think it was serious. She wasn't interested in a boyfriend, and especially not a boyfriend she knew virtually nothing about. Her stomach twisted horribly at the thought that Harry might see her with Michael during the course of the day. If there was anyone she didn't want to get the wrong impression about the two of them, it was Harry.

Finally, she forced herself out of bed and into the shower. She spent longer than usual on her wardrobe that morning, wondering what message her outfit would be sending. She didn't want to seem flirtatious or anything, but she didn't want to come across as trying to get rid of Michael either, even though that wasn't too far from the truth. Eventually she decided on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved light blue sweater and her gray coat to go on top. It was plain enough not to make any sort of statement, she figured. Pulling her hair back in a ponytail, she finally decided she was presentable and made her way downstairs.

After breakfast, which she barely touched (her stomach felt even more unsettled than usual and she blamed her impending doom at Hogsmead), she dragged herself out to the Great Hall where Michael was waiting.

"Hey," he said nervously as she approached, giving her an awkward grin. "You look very nice."

She mentally cursed. "Thanks."

They fell into a painful silence which lasted until they had been searched and approved by Filch and were headed out to the gates. Finally, Michael cleared his throat and said, "Did you manage to finish that essay for History of Magic? I thought it was murder. I made the whole thing up."

This launched them into a discussion of classes and teachers and their fellow students which lessened the uncomfortable feeling between them somewhat. Michael was a nice kid who laughed easily but only talked enough to alleviate some of the silence between them. Neither of them was especially talkative, which meant that their conversation was dotted with multiple pauses. But even with that, it wasn't as bad as Ginny had anticipated. Nobody paid them much attention, so they looked like nothing more than a couple of friends walking towards the village together, which relieved Ginny a great deal.

After reaching Hogsmead, they decided to explore a little bit, though both of them had been to the village enough not to need exploring. But at least it would pass the time. They stopped outside a few shops and discussed some of the contents that they could see from the windows, though Ginny feared her heart was obviously not in it and Michael was beginning to notice. Everything was packed so they avoiding going in anywhere until it started to rain. Then Michael suggested they go to the Three Broomsticks and Ginny hastily agreed. The Three Broomsticks was always crowded and loud enough to make up for most lacking conversations.

They found a table by the window and Ginny stared out of it for a long time while Michael went off to order them two butterbeers. He came back and somehow they managed to start a conversation about food which lasted them for some time. It wasn't until Ginny caught sight of Hermione entering and looking a little bit bedraggled from being out in the rain that she began to feel uncomfortable again. She silently willed Hermione to pick the farthest seat from them possible, and she held her breath until her friend had sat at a table far enough away for her and Michael to look like part of the crowd. Plus, she had her back to them. Ginny began to breathe again.

"Um…Ginny?"

"Yeah," she said a little too quickly. "Er, sorry, I spaced out for a second there."

Michael frowned but shrugged it off easily and continued with their conversation. Ginny was beginning to wish the rain would let up so they could go outside again when the bell on the door jingled merrily and a very grouchy-looking Harry entered, much to Ginny's dismay. Though he was completely alone, she noted with satisfaction. Where Cho could have gotten to she did not know, but was a little too eager to find out. Harry made his way over to Hermione's table which, Ginny noticed, was also occupied by Luna Lovegood and, though she couldn't be quite sure, someone who looked a great deal like Rita Skeeter. She was so busy watching them all that she was completely taken off guard when Luna noticed her and waved enthusiastically in her direction. She wanted to disappear. Every head at the table turned towards her including, though she desperately wished it wasn't so, Harry's. He took in the fact that she was not alone and spent a quick moment scrutinizing Michael, which seemed to sour his mood even further. Then, he turned back to Hermione as though making a conscious decision to ignore her.

"What's up?" Michael asked, watching her expression closely.

"Can we get out of here?" she responded nervously. "I'm feeling a little restless."

"Er…" he glanced outside at the pouring rain. "Sure, I guess."

They gathered up their things and headed to the door, but not before they could be stopped by some of Michael's friends. Ginny felt her face turning beet red as he introduced her to the Ravenclaws who all seemed to have the exact impression of her that she was hoping to avoid. She was there with their friend, clearly a date. Perhaps even a girlfriend. She wanted to run away but she stood frozen to the spot, smiling and nodding and hating every second of it.

Things only got worse from there. Michael, who seemed eager to be with people he was comfortable around, asked her if she minded spending the rest of the day with his friends and since she had no reason to say no (other than the fact that she really, really didn't want to) she nodded and they took seats at the end of the table. The good news was she didn't have to talk much. The bad news was she could almost feel Luna, Hermione, and Harry watching her. The rest of the afternoon seemed to drag on and she was relieved beyond description when Michael's Ravenclaw friends stood up and started heading back toward Hogwarts.

She said goodbye to Michael at the Great Hall and raced up the stairs to the Gryffindor common room as fast as she could manage. Then, feeling exhausted, collapsed on her bed and lay there contemplating how she would avoid the awkward questions that where sure to come the next day.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; not the plot, not the setting, not the characters. I'm just making a few changes. You should be able to recognize them. =D

A/N: Hey everyone! Thanks for still reading! And thanks for the new reviews! Please, please keep them up! For those of you still not reviewing, I really would love it if you would start. Please review!!! One other quick note: I want to know if you think I should continue this story into the seventh book. Currently it's supposed to end with the sixth book but if you feel like I should continue, then I will. Please, let me know! In your next review or in a PM just say yea or nay. Thanks!

Chapter 15

The next day passed in the strangest haze; half of the time seemed to go by too slowly to bear, while the rest rushed by so fast Ginny felt completely unprepared for her Occlumency lesson that evening. She also was somewhat less than eager to face Harry after the awkward situation in Hogsmead the day before. But maybe she was just blowing things out of proportion. She told herself that repeatedly that afternoon after ducking behind a shelf in the library, filled with books with titles like _Become a_ _Master Hipogryph Trainer_ and others that might interest Hagrid, so as to avoid Harry who was browsing a section on the mind. She watched him curiously, wondering what he was searching for, but she never found out. Before she could, Michael Corner wandered in looking like he wasn't so interested in the literary content of the library. She hurried out before she could be caught by either of them.

As dinner approached, she found herself once again contemplating excuses, though this time it was only half-heartedly. Part of her really did want to go to Occlumency lessons, for multiple reasons, though a large portion of her would rather not. Even as she sat at the Gryffindor table, nervously anticipating the next couple of hours, her mind was reeling with possibilities. If this _could_ make the dreams stop….

Harry slid into the seat next to her and she felt her heart stop for a scary moment.

"So who was the boy?" he asked, pulling a platter full of roast beef toward him rather than looking at her when he spoke.

Ginny's face turned beet red, though—maybe she was just imagining it—she was sure she heard the faintest hint of jealousy in his voice which made her heart go from zero to sixty so fast she couldn't answer him for a long moment. _You're being ridiculous_, she reminded herself. She cleared her throat and answered with as much nonchalance as way as possible.

"His name is Michael Corner. He's a Ravenclaw in my year and he's very nice." She wasn't sure if the last part was a lie or not, she really couldn't remember. She'd had such a terrible time the day before that Michael could have been an angel and she wouldn't have remembered it very well.

"Ah," Harry responded shortly. "Is he in the DA?"

She nodded, still trying to look casual about the whole thing though she was sure she was failing miserably.

"Great," was all he said as he pilled potatoes onto his plate.

They ate in silence for a while, Ginny playing with her food as much as eating it, Harry shoveling it in like he wanted to get it over with. Farther down the table Ginny could see Ron and Hermione sitting down, looking like they'd just lost someone. Probably Harry, she realized. He most likely had not told them about Occlumency lessons and the two of them would naturally wonder where he'd gotten to. She hoped they wouldn't notice them, because she'd rather not deal with the two of them just then. Finally, Harry finished his food and then turned to her.

"You ready?" He had a look in his eye like he wasn't eager to start.

Feeling much like he seemed to, Ginny nodded, though thoughts of faking ill were dancing through her mind. Harry stooped to pick up his bag and she noticed a book peeking out from inside and she wondered if he'd gotten it that day in the library. The title was hard to make out though the first couple of words were clear: _Mind_ _Magic…_

"Let's go," Harry said, and Ginny shook herself out of her thoughts.

As they walked out of the Great Hall Ginny noted Michael's eyes on her and she felt her face flush. Luckily, Harry didn't seem to notice, at least, not until they reached the staircase.

"So you going to see him again?" he asked casually as they climbed.

She felt cornered and embarrassed but managed to keep her voice calm as she spoke. "At DA meetings and in classes, I suppose."

"That all?" he prompted. A rush of excitement (which she quickly suppressed, though with some difficulty) at the obvious interest he took in the subject swept through her. When she answered him this time it was with much more ease than before.

"I think so." She shrugged one shoulder for emphasis. "He hasn't asked to see me again and, if first dates are the measure of a relationship, we didn't start off so well."

"Ah." Was that relief she heard in his voice? She told herself firmly that it wasn't.

For the rest of the time they remained silent, Harry walking ahead and Ginny following uncertainly. She had no idea where they were going and didn't bother to ask. It wasn't until they'd reached the corridor with the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy trying to teach trolls ballet that she realized they were headed to the Room of Requirement. Pulling his bag a little higher onto his shoulder, Harry walked past the door three times, a look of concentration on his face, and then stopped suddenly, watching the wall for the door to appear. It did, a simple oak door that didn't appear any bit out of the ordinary, except that it had materialized out of nowhere just a moment earlier. They stepped inside to find a room very similar to the one they used for DA practices, though much smaller and less equipped. The door closed behind them and Ginny felt her heart speed up slightly at the thought that she and Harry were now very alone.

Letting his bag drop to the floor, which made Ginny jump at the sudden noise, Harry sank into the couch that lined one wall and gave her a nervous smile. She didn't move, just watched him expectantly. When she gave no other response, he took a deep breath and plunged in.

"Okay," he said cautiously. "I'm not an expert at this…like…at all."

"You know more than me," she offered, though he did not look comforted by this.

"Yeah," he answered dully before wetting his lips and then continuing. "There's something I didn't mention before. The only way for me to teach you to block people from getting into your mind is for me to invade your mind. I'll have to try to read your thoughts."

She'd feared as much, though she hadn't done any research to verify it. The news didn't surprise her, but she realized it was going to take a lot more will power to get through this than it would have otherwise. She braced herself for what was to come and nodded to indicate he continue.

"Are you okay with that?" he asked, sounding slightly taken aback, and perhaps a little disappointed.

"Yeah," she said firmly. She was fine with it. If this would help…she was fine with it.

Harry was frowning but he went on as though nothing had changed. "All right then. I'm going to use Legilimency against you, to try and get into your mind. You're supposed to try and block me. Concentrate on clearing your mind so that there's nothing for me to see and then focus on keeping me out."

She listened intently and nodded her head vigorously to show that she was paying attention and understood. It didn't sound that hard, considering.

"It might not work at all," he admitted. "I'm not sure I can get into your mind in the first place, even without you using Occlumency."

Ginny swallowed but didn't say anything. That would be…fair. He'd offered to help her mostly against her will, so if it didn't work she'd be no worse off and they'd both be free of the lessons. Though already she could feel the first stirrings of disappointment at the thought.

"Okay then," he finished when he realized she had nothing else to say. "Whenever you're ready."

She nodded and immediately began to try and clear her mind of every thought, but it was much harder than she expected. As soon as she told herself to clear her mind, a million new thoughts and ideas came rushing to her, a million worries and fears.

Harry stood and took a place at the end of the room, standing with his wand at the ready. Ginny turned to face him and forced herself to clear her mind by focusing on his shoelace. But this brought with it a hundred more strange thoughts and she felt like grunting with irritation.

"Are you ready?" he asked without making it sound like a question. "One…"

She wasn't ready. She was still thinking about his shoe laces, about not being ready, about her mind being invaded, about the billions of memories she didn't want him to see.

"Two…_three! Legilimens!_"

It was so sudden; she didn't have time to block him.

….She was wearing a big pink dress with too many bows and ruffles to sit comfortably in. Her long red hair was tied back in pigtails with two enormous pink hair bows. In front of her was a cake covered with blue and white icing that read _Happy Birthday Ginny!_ and had six candles on it. Fred was blowing a kazoo in her ear and she jerked away from the sound….

….She was sneaking out after dinner while her brothers were doing chores. She tiptoed to the broom shed and silently removed Charlie's racing broom. Then, nervously looking over her shoulder, she snuck up to the pitch to practice flying….

….She was walking through Diagon Ally with her hand held tightly in her mother's. They passed several colorful shops and she peered eagerly inside every window. A richly dressed little girl about her age passed by and pointed rudely to Ginny's hand-me-down clothes, laughing….

She stumbled backwards, tripped, and then found herself lying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, wondering idly how she'd gotten there, and why she wasn't eight years old and feeling hot tears prick at her eyes because she had been teased for being poor. Suddenly, Harry was standing above her, looking concerned and holding out a hand to help her to her feet. She took it but was surprised to find she felt too dizzy to want to stand.

"Oh!" The sound burst from her lips with a sigh. "Wow….Why does my head hurt so bad?"

Harry gave her a firm tug and she got to her feet, staggering somewhat at first. She shook her head to try and stop the room from spinning, walked shakily to the couch, and collapsed into it immediately.

"Well I guess that answers my question," Harry said, trying to sound lighthearted. "You okay?"

"Sure," she mumbled. She brought a trembling hand up to her temples. Why had she just fallen over?

"It's okay, I reacted that way, too," he said as though reading her mind, which was no longer a hard thing to imagine.

"You fell over?" she asked, tilting her head to look at him. He nodded and she sighed. "I don't know why…I didn't see anything that bad…"

"I guess it's just the fact that your mind was being invaded," he said encouragingly. "Anybody would react like that."

Anybody. Sure. Not just anybody gets their mind invaded, she thought wryly. "Did I throw you off, or did you…leave?"

He looked a little sheepish, but did not hesitate to answer her. "I left."

"Great," she moaned, running her hands over her eyes.

"Hey, don't worry about it," Harry tried to bolster her. "It's not easy. You shouldn't expect to get it the first time."

She stood, a little too quickly, stumbled a little, and then righted herself. "All right. Let's start again."

"Ginny…"

"Come on," she said, turning her back on him and heading back towards her previous spot.

"You don't have to if you don't want—"

"I want to," she said firmly. "I need to."

He pursed his lips but he stood too and headed to the opposite side of the room, turning to face her, wand at the ready. "Are you sure?" he demanded.

"I'm sure."

"All right….One…two…"

She braced herself, trying desperately to clear her mind from the memories that she'd already seen. She tried to empty all thoughts from her head but she wasn't sure that that was even possible. Her heart was racing and her mind was full of fears of what she would see next.

_Nothing! _She insisted. _Clear your mind and you won't see anything!_

"…_three! Leglimens!"_

…She was sitting on the Hogwarts Express for the first time, feeling her heart pound with excitement. The compartment she was sitting in was empty apart from herself and nobody bothered to enter. After a moment alone, she reached into her trunk and fished out a little black book that Ginny recognized immediately….

The image froze suddenly, like it had moved from a wizard photograph to a Muggle one in only a second. Ginny stared at it in surprise, wondering why it had done that, though realizing in part that she had pulled away from the image, repulsed, when it had first appeared. She mused on the fact that Harry was seeing exactly what she was seeing and she thought a little about what he must be thinking. But this tangent cost her her focus until the image was moving again, morphing into another one.

….She was sitting in the first DA meeting, which caught her slightly off guard considering how recent the memory was, listening as Harry gave his speech about fighting the dark arts….

….She was at Quidditch practice, performing a spectacular dive—before the dreams had exhausted her to the point of debilitation. The Snitch was inches away, the ground a mere twenty feet from her and the little golden ball. Just in time, she swooped up the orb and came out of the dive, barely scrapping her feet along the ground….

….It was Christmas Eve and she was a gawky thirteen-year-old, sitting on her four-poster and gossiping with Hermione about the upcoming Yule Ball. Her gown was spread out on the bed beside her and every now and then she reached out to touch the hem of it, contemplating how the next evening was going to go….

Again she found herself staggering backwards, although this time she did not fall over. She caught herself just in time and straightened awkwardly. The room was spinning again and she felt her knees going week.

"What was that?" Harry demanded.

"What was…what was what?" she asked wearily, wandering over to the couch and sinking into it.

"How did you get that picture to freeze like that?" he said a little more slowly, coming to stand over her.

"I…" she shook her head. She felt slow and confused, like her mind wasn't her own anymore. But then again, that wasn't that strange. "I don't know," she admitted. "I guess I just didn't want to see that."

He was frowning, so his next words surprised her. "That's really good for a first attempt. Like you were halfway there. You must have gotten distracted," he added at the end.

She nodded, but didn't say anything. Suddenly she felt really thirsty and worn out. Though pleased with herself, she realized. For a first try that was pretty good.

"Let's go again," she said, trying to get up, but Harry pushed her back down.

"Not tonight," he insisted. "That's enough for a first try." He sat down next to her and she turned to face him, about to argue, but he cut her off first. "This is tiring for me too, and I really don't know enough about this to take things much further. Let's just try again next week."

She bit her lip to keep herself from insisting they continue. If this was such a good start it might have already helped her out. She wondered what would happen that night when she went to sleep. "Thanks," she said after a long silence.

"No problem," he shrugged it off. "Until next time try and clear your mind before you go to sleep. That's supposed to help."

"Has it helped you," she asked, though she half expected what the answer was going to be.

He hitched one shoulder up and then let it drop. "Not much," he said. She figured that was probably a big understatement for her sake. "But I'm not good at Occlumency any way."

"Hmmm," was all she could think to say in response.

There was an awkward silence until Harry finally stood and suggested that they should head back to the common room. Together they walked back, neither of them speaking. They reached the portrait of the Fat Lady and as they crawled through, they said good night and went their own ways. Ginny fell asleep almost immediately, but that did not last long. That night her dreams were worse than they had been since she'd seen the snake before Christmas break.


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; not the plot, not the setting, not the characters. I'm just making a few changes. You should be able to recognize them. =D

A/N: Hey everyone! Thanks for still reading! And thanks for the new reviews! Please, please keep them up! For those of you still not reviewing, I really would love it if you would start. Please review!!! One other quick note: I want to know if you think I should continue this story into the seventh book. Currently it's supposed to end with the sixth book but if you feel like I should continue, then I will. Please, let me know! In your next review or in a PM just say yea or nay. Thanks!

Chapter 16

Ginny lay on her side, breathing shallowly. Her pillow was wet with tears and her face felt hot and sticky. Cold sweat beaded down her back. She squeezed her eyes shut and punched her fist into the mattress as hard as she could. She bit back a cry of pain. Again and again she hit it, over and over. Finally, the ache in her wrist forced her to stop. A sharp sting throbbed repeatedly in her hand and she cradled it against her stomach. She wanted to scream, to run away, to disappear. Part of her, a deeper, darker part that she was scared to recognize, wanted to die, to escape.

It had been two weeks since her first Occlumency lesson and the dreams had, instead of dissipating, grown steadily worse. She wondered at times whether or not this just proved that the connection between her and Voldemort—if such a connection existed—was fighting back, trying to keep her from throwing it off. If that was the case, she almost wondered if it was worth it. After three sessions, she still wasn't coming anywhere near success. Aside from the moment in her initial lesson, nothing new had developed. Though on their second Sunday they'd discovered her first blank spot. Instead of a memory, a long period of blackness—which at first has scared Ginny into thinking she'd gone blind—flashed in front of her. Harry considered this a success and encouraged her to keep practicing, though later that night she realized that the blank spot _was_ a memory. A memory of her first year. There had been times that year when she'd wake up and have no clue what had happened to her, or sometimes even where she was. That blank spot was one of those moments. They became increasingly more frequent in the next practice and she was sure that Harry had finally figured out what they were, because he didn't seem excited about them anymore. Tomorrow they would have their fourth session and Ginny was not looking forward to it.

She sighed and lifted a hand to wipe away the tears and sweat that covered her face. Her body ached with tension and she could feel the heaviness in her eyelids like they were made of concrete. But she was determined not to let herself fall back to sleep. No matter how tired she was….

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ginny arrived at the Room of Requirement a full fifteen minutes late and dropped her bag with a rather unceremonious _thump_ that made Harry jump a little.

"What happened to your hand?" he demanded, indicating the bandages that she had hastily wrapped around her wrist in an attempt to ease the pain a little.

"Quidditch practice," she lied. She walked over to her position at the opposite end of the room, lifting her wand and standing ready. Harry didn't seem to take the hint, because he stayed where he was.

"Have you seen Madam Promfrey about that?" He was still staring pointedly at her wrist.

She shrugged in as nonchalant a way as she could. "I don't need to. It's not that bad." Also a lie. It hurt a lot. But she wasn't too eager to tell the school nurse she'd busted her hand punching her mattress. She could fight through a little pain to keep things quiet. She'd been doing it all year. "You ready?" she added, a little impatient.

But Harry stayed put. "Ginny…"

"Look, I'm fine," she sighed. "Let's just get on with this, please. I'm sure we both have other things we'd rather be doing." She regretted the heated tone in her voice, especially since Harry had a look on his face half-way between rage and sadness which gave her an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. But he finally moved over to the end of the room and raised his wand.

She braced herself as he counted down, clearing her mind as quickly as she could; though, as always, hundreds of wispy thoughts cluttered up her head so that when the spell hit her she found herself reviewing memories that she was neither supposed to or eager to see.

….She was running into an abandoned girl's bathroom, yanking a small diary out of her book bag. Tears were streaking down her face as she swung around to see if there was anyone else in the room, then she hurriedly pushed open one of the stall doors. Letting out a frustrated yell, she threw the book into the toilet as hard as she could, sending water spraying out all over the stall and herself. She stumbled backwards and clung to the door for support….

….It was a snowy day and she sat looking eagerly out at the sea of white as her mother struggled to get her into a coat. Her four-year-old body couldn't help squirming and fidgeting, too excited to hold still long enough to get into her snow things. "Itsa bootiful!" she was saying, pointing out the window and jumping up and down….

….A group of kids that she recognized as the DA were talking and laughing together in the Room of Requirement, preparing to leave for the Christmas holidays. Leaving in pairs and small groups, the students headed back to their dormitories. Ginny was standing next to Parvati and Lavender, a look of disinterest on her face as she listened to their conversation. Slowly they began to make their way out of the room and she looked around, realizing they were some of the last people there. Hermione was, as discreetly as possible, trying to usher everyone out while Ginny noticed that Cho was one of the few people still standing in the room. For a moment she stood paralyzed while she watched Harry approach Cho, then she spun on her heel and rushed out, feeling her face flush with anger….

Her checks were still hot with embarrassment when she realized she had fallen to her knees and was clutching her head between her hands. "Oh…" she groaned. She looked up and saw that Harry's face was red, too. "I—sorry…" she mumbled, not sure what else to say.

Harry shrugged and ran his hand across the back of his neck nervously. "It's fine," she said awkwardly. "My fault."

She got shakily to her feet. Her head was throbbing. Sucking in a deep breath, she straightened her sweater and brushed the strands of hair that had fallen into her face back behind her ear. Harry was watching her with a look of mixed interest and discomfort, though his gaze was steady. That was something about him she didn't get. He wasn't the type of guy to look away when he was embarrassed, unless he thought by looking away he was saving you embarrassment. He was more of the "I don't really care what you think" kind of person. Once upon a time that had been exactly what she liked about him. Now that she was the one on the receiving end, she was caught between feeling breathless and extremely irritated.

"Let's go again," she said, almost more to pull her eyes away from his than because she actually wanted to continue.

Harry nodded, and took his place on the other side of the room. Anxiously trying to steady her breathing before they began again, she raised her wand and forced herself to focus on Harry's left eyebrow. Automatically, her eyes wandered to the jagged lightning bolt scar that cut across his forehead. She stared at it stupidly, noticing how a lock of his black hair fell across it, when the spell hit her, catching her completely off guard. A small gasp escaped her lips and she took a step back before becoming completely lost in the memory.

…_.Her eyelids fluttered open. She was laying on something hard and cold and moist. The entire front of her robes were damp from laying there for who knew how long. Slowly, she sat up and took note of her surroundings. Her sharp intake of breath echoed off of the walls of the long, shadowy chamber and she suddenly felt smaller than ever before. Enormous carved snakes lined the walls behind her and directly ahead was a statue so tall her head would barely reach the top of the foot if she was standing. She craned her neck backwards so she could look up into the face and realized, though without any real reason to have recognized it, that she was staring up at Salazar Slytherin. Shrinking back, she scrambled to her feet and gaped at the giant stone man. A shiver ran up her spine and she turned and raced back down the corridor of snakes, toward the door which seemed to writhe with more stone serpents whose ruby eyes glittered evilly in the dim, green light. Her feet pounded the slippery flagstone floor and her breath came in shallow gasps. She had to get out. Realization was dawning and she knew this was the last place she wanted to be. With all her might, she pushed against the heavy metal door, but it would not budge. For what felt like an eternity she shoved and struggled until finally she gave up and instead rushed back along the passage, hoping to find another way out, though her hope was so slim and vague she had no real belief that she'd find what she was looking for. Suddenly, her foot slid out from beneath her, slipping on the smooth, wet floor so that she fell to her knees. She did not try to get up. _

"_You shouldn't have tried to run away like that," said a voice that simultaneously terrified and comforted her. She spun around to see a sixteen-year-old boy with a shock of black curls and piercing dark eyes who she recognized almost immediately. "You'll only get lost," he added as an afterthought like the idea wasn't one he entirely opposed. Leaning against one of the snake-pillars as if this was the most common thing in the world, he looked so calm and collected she couldn't help but feel relieved. _

"_Tom!" she gasped. "Is it really you?" She stumbled to her feet awkwardly—she was painfully aware of every step, every clumsy movement, that she made. "Where did you come from—what are you doing here? Where _are_ we?"_

_The boy was picking at the cuticles on his left hand and while he seemed too engrossed in the task to pay much attention to Ginny he was doing it as though it was the dullest of necessary chores. It was a long moment before he responded. _

"_I think you already know the answer to that, Ginny. You were always so good at putting things together." He looked up at her when he said the last part, an expression on his face that she couldn't entirely make out. His tone bothered her, frightened her a little, but she answered without hesitation._

"_Are we in the Chamber of Secrets?" The words left her lips as a whisper. They tasted bitter on her lips, like she imagined fear tasting. _

_Tom nodded slowly. "Well done."_

"_But _why_?" she pleaded. "We don't belong here, Tom. Let's get out of here, please!" She took a step toward him but his cold glance made her stop short. _

"'_We don't belong here'?" he repeated coolly. "I'm not sure you understand what you're saying, Ginny. We belong here more than any two people I can think of."_

"_What—what do you mean?" she mumbled, afraid of the answer. "Tom, don't be ridiculous—"_

"_Ginny, if either of us needs to worry about being ridiculous, it's you," he snapped._

_She wrapped her arms around herself, staring at him in confusion and hurt as she slowly began to rock back and forth._

"_Who better to be down here than us?" he continued. "The heir of Slytherin and his…accomplice, for lack of a better term." _

"_I don't understand," Ginny whispered. Her voice was hoarse._

"_Oh, I think you do," Tom said, peeling himself off of the side of the pillar. "You see, that's us, Ginny. And I think you've known that for some time now. Why else would you try and get rid of the diary?"_

"_Tom—what's wrong with you?" she gasped, pointing at his midriff as she realized for the first time that she could see straight through him. "What's happened to you...?" The words trailed off as she stared at his flickering frame. She lifted her hand to her mouth. "Are you a…ghost?" she asked through her fingers, still unable to look away from his stomach._

"_No, not a ghost, a memory. A memory which you, Ginny Weasley, have quite graciously been sustaining for the past year." His smile was cruel, which frightened her far more than his dim outline of a body had. This was not Tom like she knew him. _

"_A memory?" she murmured, as though she didn't believe him._

"_One that was preserved in a diary that, rather unluckily, fell into your hands," Tom clarified. "Now, I'm ready to come back out and _you_ are going to help me."_

_She stumbled backwards, her eyes wide with shock and horror as she began to realize what he was saying. _

_"All those times…all those times I couldn't remember what happened to me…that was _you_?! _You're_ the heir of Slytherin?"_

_"I believe I explained that already," the boy sighed in frustration._

_"That can't be…" she said slowly, then added with more force, "It's not true! I would never—"_

_"Never send a basilisk after all the mudbloods and such in the school? Of course not. _I_ did." He laughed a little at the look of disgust on her face. "You just happened to be my…means, I suppose is what you'd call it. I couldn't do it on my own as a mere memory, so I used you. A blunt instrument, I won't lie, but not completely worthless either." He feigned a bow and smiled wickedly. "I suppose I must thank you for that."_

_"Tom—Tom you wouldn't!"_

_"But I _did_, Ginny," he coaxed. "Don't you _see_, you silly little girl, that I am perhaps the most persuasive…the best liar you've ever met? This whole year with you has been a charade and you fell for it without even stopping to think of what you were doing." He gave her a grudgingly appreciative look as he said, "I suppose I must give you that much credit. If you'd been more difficult, any less trusting, it would have been nearly impossible for me to do any of this."_

_She didn't wait to hear anymore. Without pausing to think of how easily he could outrun her and overtake her, she turned and ran. It didn't matter what direction, just _away_. But even as she leapt between two of the black marble snakes and into a branching off tunnel, she could hear his voice echoing through the Chamber, following her as if he were right beside her. _

_"There's nowhere for you to go, Ginny. I am the heir of Slytherin. No matter where you go in here, I'll find you."_

_His voice changed, became husky and hissing as he spoke in a language she did not recognize. A moment later she was sure she heard the sound of a snake slithering along the cold stone floor…._

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

The word had burst from her lips so unexpectedly she wasn't entirely sure it had come from her. She had crumpled to the floor, her arms wrapped around her stomach as it threatened to relieve itself of her meager dinner. Sweat was beading on her forehead and her temples throbbed like they were about to explode. For a moment, she wasn't sure where she was or what she was seeing. It took her a second to respond to Harry's voice when he knelt beside her and tried to turn her over.

"Ginny? Do you hear me?"

She didn't answer. Tears were streaking down her face and an odd mix of emotions was boiling in her chest; terror, fury, sorrow, hopelessness, and relief. She was afraid to speak, afraid to turn toward him and show that she was so torn up by this. He couldn't see her tears. She bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood.

"Ginny—answer me, please!"

Her breathing was choppy and thin. Gasps of air would reach her lungs and then for long moments at a time she would not breathe at all, or breathe only enough not to suffocate herself. She felt sick. But her tears were starting to stop and she lifted an arm to wipe them away before slowly raising herself into a sitting position. Her back was to Harry, but he placed his hands firmly on her shoulders and turned her to face him. Never before had she seen such a look on his face. A combination of fear, shock, and anger along with a few emotions she couldn't put a name to registered in his eyes and his mouth was a hard line. His face was cloudy and it frightened her a little to see him that way.

"We're done for tonight," he commanded so resolutely that she was afraid to contradict him. But she swallowed to clear her throat and answered with equal determination.

"No. We have to try again."

She pulled free of his grip and began to struggle to her feet.

"Ginny, are you crazy?" he demanded. "You should have seen yourself. I've never seen anyone so….No way. No more tonight. I won't do it."

"We can't quit now," she said as her knees buckled beneath her and she collapsed back onto the floor. "Just one more time."

"I won't do it, Ginny. Do you hear me? I won't!" He was almost screaming at her. She was back on her feet, shaking so badly it was a wonder she was standing, but stand she did. "You're crazy." This time it was a definition rather than a question. It made her smile bitterly.

"I can't stop now," she insisted. "I have to keep going. That…I can't…I have to." She sank into the couch, and took a shaky breath. "Just let me rest a minute and then we'll do it again."

"You can't do it without me and I won't do it, Ginny," he said. His voice was like stone.

"I'm not leaving here until I try again," she shot back. "So I guess we'll just have to do it one more time."

"You're crazy!" he said again, with so much vehemence in his voice she jumped a little. "I'm not going to help you kill yourself!"

"I'm not going to kill myself," she mumbled, though she sounded far less convincing than he did.

There was a pause as Harry watched her with a curious expression on his face. Then, taking her completely by surprise, he came and sat beside her, holding her gaze steadily. "Let's just wait a week, Ginny, please," he pleaded. She was shocked by the concern in his voice and the fact that he was _begging_ her to stop. She had never seen Harry _beg_ anyone.

Her face was hot when she answered but she spoke levelly. "I can't wait a week. I have to keep trying." He opened his mouth to interrupt her but she stood quickly, wobbling a little, and walked to the other side of the room. "I _have_ to beat this," she continued, her voice rising slightly, making her sound a little desperate. "I'm not going to spend the rest of my life like this—I have to beat this." She turned to face him, knowing she probably seemed as beseeching as he had.

He slowly stood as well, sliding his hands into his pockets. For a long moment he didn't say anything, just chewed on the inside of his cheek. Then, speaking every word like it weighed heavy on his tongue he said, "I think I understand—"

"No, you don't!" she snapped, turning away from him to hide her anger somewhat. "If you did, you wouldn't be asking me to stop now. I can't stop now! Please respect me enough to give me the benefit of the doubt a little! I know what I need, so please just let me do it." She took a shuddering breath, a little frightened by her own outburst.

Harry was silent behind her. After a moment she heard his footsteps walking toward the opposite wall. They stopped and he spoke again in the smallest voice she'd ever heard him use.

"Last time," he insisted.

She turned around and raised her wand. Harry's was already in position. He counted down and this time Ginny was ready when the spell hit her.

It was like curling into a ball. She could feel a force attacking her, trying to reach her, but it only just succeeded. Thin wisps of memories fluttered around her mind, but she could feel the majority of the spell still trying to penetrate her shield. She had pulled within herself so that she was safe from everything around her; only a little bit of her mind was exposed. It was painful and the strain was exhausting but at least she was keeping him at bay. Eventually, the power of the spell decreased and the memories stopped fluttering around her mind like leaves on the wind. She was standing in the Room of Requirement again and she fell to her knees.

It only took a second for Harry to reach her. She was panting, but otherwise unharmed. He had a grudgingly impressed look on his face which made her smile a little, though it must have been a bitter, twisted smile.

"Are you okay?" he demanded, before she could really catch her breath.

She nodded, but didn't say anything. Sighing heavily, she fell back into a sitting position. Aside from her worst headache yet, she felt fine, at least in comparison to the last time they had attempted this. She shivered violently and she drew her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. Harry watched her with anxiety but said nothing for some time. Eventually he spoke, with a little bit of a steely edge to his voice.

"We're done for tonight."

This time she didn't argue. She nodded distractedly and allowed herself to lie down on the cool stone floor, pressing her warm cheek against the marble. It was soothing and, though she shivered again, she felt strangely relaxed. Harry was sitting next to her, staring off into the distance as though he was lost.

"I'm sorry for…snapping at you," she said awkwardly, hoping to repair the damage some. Even though she'd been frustrated by Harry's unwillingness to help, she had also been touched by his evident concern.

He turned to look at her, his face strangely blank. "I'm sorry for not listening," he answered calmly. He looked away again and continued in the same tone. "I was worried about you. If I'd just seen something like that from my own memory…." Catching her completely off guard, he suddenly lay down beside her. He was on his back, his hands resting on her chest, so he had to turn his head to look at her. "I admire your bravery, Ginny Weasley," he said softly. Her heart was pounding in her chest so violently she was afraid it might jump right out. "I wish I was a little more like you."

She had no idea what to say. Part of her wanted to admit that he had always been the person she thought of when she thought of bravery. She wanted him to know that he was the bravest and best example of a person she knew, that she was half in love with him for it. But all that she said was, "Thank you." But she really meant it, more than she'd ever meant it before.

His mouth twitched upwards a little until he was smiling and Ginny found it was hard to breathe. After a short moment, though, his smile faltered and he looked up at the ceiling.

"Ginny," he said quietly, and she could tell he was about to say something neither of them wanted to hear, "that memory…was that really…really what it was like?" He turned to look at her, his eyes intense with worry. "Was that…all? Did he hurt you or…anything like that?"

"No," she whispered, rolling onto her back so that she was the one looking up at the ceiling. "He never hurt me physically. It was all very painless."

"What happened?" His voice was so gentle she almost wanted to curl up beside him and tell him everything. But the questions had automatically sent her barriers up. After her first year she'd stopped being trusting, she'd stopped being willing to let anyone in. This was no different, and she found herself fighting her own protections. "You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to," he added quickly.

"No, I want to," she said, surprised by how honest an answer that was. Harry knew more about her than anyone, and for some reason she didn't want it to stop there. She wanted him to know, though her first instinct was to run away.

She took a deep breath and started without giving herself time to hesitate.

"I don't remember much of that year," she admitted. "If I wasn't in class, I was trying to keep up with the mountains of homework I had because there were so many times when I'd just…black out and not remember where I'd been or what I'd done. And not just for a few minutes but for hours at a time. Half of the time I didn't know what was going on."

She could feel Harry's eyes on her, but she didn't look at him. She stared fixedly at the ceiling as she talked, like she wasn't talking to anyone in particular.

"Whenever that would happen I would always write it down in the diary. _'Tom, I woke up today covered in chicken feathers and I don't know why….Tom I missed Transfiguration today and I'm not sure where I was….'_ It makes me sick to think about it now," she murmured. She swallowed and then continued. "And he would always write back about not telling anyone and keeping it to myself. In the end it would just go away, that kind of stuff. He was lying to me, of course, but I trusted him. I didn't know who else I could trust.

"After what you saw, I stayed in that tunnel and hid. The basilisk was outside and Riddle threatened that if I didn't come out he'd send the snake in after me. Eventually I came out, because I didn't have a choice. I had my eyes shut tight until Riddle sent the snake away. From what I could tell he had a hard time getting it to leave without eating anything." She smiled resentfully, and rubbed her arm with her right hand. "It felt like I was falling asleep," she added, her voice soft and slow. "Every second it became harder to keep my eyes open. I tripped and fell and didn't get up. Riddle watched with this…this _hungry_ look in his eyes. He told me about all the things I'd done that year, explaining what had happened to me. I think I started to cry." She stopped for a moment and shut her eyes. Her cheeks flushed a little in irritation at the emotion she was fighting, but she pressed on, her eyes still squeezed shut. "The last thing I remember seeing was Riddle walking away, staring at the exit and talking about all the horrible things he'd made me do that year. All I could think was that I wanted to die."

She took a deep breath and forced a more upbeat smile as she turned her head to look at Harry. "And then you came and when I woke up there you were." She stopped rubbing her arm and dropped her hand to her side. The floor was cold and sent little shivers up her spin but it was comforting somehow. It was real and vivid and she could feel it there, an anchor on the now so that she could leave the past.

Again she closed her eyes, taking a steadying breath. It was the first time she'd ever talked about the Chamber to anybody and while it was only a weak attempt, she'd still managed to get it out. She was proud of herself in a way and she allowed herself to relax a little now that it was over.

Something warm and gentle reached out and touched her hand. She opened her eyes in time to see Harry's fingers close around her hand. Her heart was beating a million times a minute and she stared in disbelief at his hand, so much bigger than her own, which had swallowed hers. It was the most comforting feeling in the world—like it fit—like it was supposed to be that way. She almost pulled away in surprise but it felt too right to do that. Instead she lifted her eyes to his and he smiled awkwardly, like he was just as surprised as she was.

"Thanks for telling me," he whispered. "I know that must have been hard."

She didn't speak. If she did she probably would only have managed a squeak, so she left her mouth firmly shut. But a thousand different things she wanted to say were running through her mind. Harry gave her hand another squeeze and then let it go. He stood and the moment passed as quickly as it had started. For a second she just lay there, trying to catch her breath and clear her mind. Had it even really happened?


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; not the plot, not the setting, not the characters. I'm just making a few changes. You should be able to recognize them. =D

A/N: Hey everyone! Thanks for still reading! For those of you still not reviewing, I really would love it if you would start. I know that there's at least 38 of you reading and I still have only 28 reviews…somehow the numbers don't add up Please review!!! Other quick notes: I want to know if you think I should continue this story into the seventh book. Currently it's supposed to end with the sixth book but if you feel like I should continue, then I will. Please, let me know! In your next review or in a PM just say yea or nay. Thanks! Also, I just wanted to apologize for not updating sooner. I'm currently in the middle of college applications and midterm exams, so life's pretty busy. I'll try and keep updating though. Thanks for your support!

Chapter 17

Ginny found it extremely difficult to concentrate on her Patronus Charm with Harry only a few feet away, especially since he and Cho were giving each other a wide berth. Apparently their date had gone just as poorly as hers had with Michael and the thought made her nearly dance with excitement. Perhaps that was why she was getting farther ahead than anyone else in her work on the Patronus. Though, she simultaneously had to avoid Michael which made focusing on her happiness a little difficult. But Harry had—she hoped purposefully—partnered her with Dean that day instead of Michael who clearly was put out by this.

"You're doing very well," Dean commented after producing a pale shimmer of a Patronus. "Mine's not very…impressive." He grinned awkwardly as the wisps of magic dissipated.

"You're doing great, Dean," Ginny replied honestly, motioning to the other groups which were performing equally scanty charms, if not doing worse than her partner. "It's not easy."

"That last one almost looked like something," he said with a broader smile.

"If by something you mean an ameba, then yes," she admitted finding herself grinning back. He laughed heartily and she chuckled a little herself. It was easy to talk to him, distracting even.

"A little less talking in the corner," Harry ordered in their direction and Ginny placed a finger to her lips, trying to look a scolding mother, which only made Dean laugh again.

"Expecto Patronum!" he chortled, managing to produce a slightly more solid puff of smoke from his wand.

"Excellent!" she said immediately. "That's really excellent, Dean!"

He bowed slightly. "Thanks. Now it's your turn."

She bit her lip and concentrated on her last Occlumancy, thinking of the sudden surge of emotions when Harry's hand had closed over hers. "Expecto Patronum!" she said firmly and a shapeless mass erupted from her wand.

"Nice," Dean offered.

It was strange how that made her feel, thinking of Harry while standing there with Dean. There were totally different emotions in each situation. Her memory of Harry made her feel breathless and confused, though so elated she almost forgot everything else. But standing there with Dean and joking with him over the past half-hour had been more fun than she'd had in a long time. He laughed easily and maintained an almost effortless conversation, even when he felt a little bit awkward. As she thought about it, Dean made her _happy_ at that moment. The feeling was so easy to put a name to. Why was it that being with Harry was so much more difficult to define?

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she said, "Can I go again?" a little nervously.

"Sure," he said, shrugging. "Be my guest."

_A happy memory,_ she thought. _A Patronus needs a happy memory._ Rather than trying to sift through her thoughts and pull out an older, used memory of happiness, she focused on how she felt at that moment and then said the words with surprising ease.

"Expecto Patronum!"

A beautiful, shimmering half-image emerged from her wand, not fully formed, but not shapeless either. She caught her breath as she stared at its beauty, Dean equally surprised beside her.

"Wow," he mumbled, obviously impressed. "That's…that's incredible."

The image disappeared and Ginny grinned, feeling somewhat worn out by the magic. "Your turn," she said, stepping back to let Dean work.

With a grimace, he said, "Can't follow that. You've just made me look bad."

She giggled, giddy with success. "I'm sure you can do it."

He squared his shoulders and then, trying to appear more confident than he was, he said the spell, laughing at himself when he only produced another meager cloud of silver.

"I think I've gotten as far as I can today," he decided, and the two of them went over to stand by the wall and watch everyone else's attempts.

A few times Harry shot them suspicious glances, and Michael clearly was turning red from concentrating on performing a better Patronus than Dean. Both sights made Ginny feel lighthearted and she spent the rest of the DA joking with her partner, though Fred and George were winking in her direction a little more obviously than she would have liked.

When it was time to leave for the evening, Dean managed to be in Ginny's little group of four along with Neville and Collin. She smiled the whole way and went to sleep that night dreaming the first pleasant dream she'd had in nearly a year.

* * *

The next day, a large package arrived for Hermione, chocked full of Quibblers. It didn't take long for the news to spread. Harry had given a private interview with Rita Skeeter about the night of Cedric Diggory's death, and the reaction was uproarious. The entire school was quoting passages from it by midday, and Ginny found herself rereading it a third time during History of Magic class that afternoon. It was brilliant and she beamed with pride. Harry had done spectacularly and she couldn't have been more proud of him. She reminded herself that it was ridiculous for her to feel that way, considering the total lack of relationship between them, but she couldn't stop herself from grinning widely whenever she heard someone repeating a line from the article or commenting about it behind a teacher's back—especially when that teacher was Dolores Jane Umbridge, and she heard more of it in Defense Against the Dark Arts than in any other class. Notes were passed around with student's favorite portions of the interview with commentary written underneath like: _That ought to teach the old toad! _or _About time he said something!_ The only people who didn't participate in the celebration were the Slytherins, though Ginny could tell that they were as aware of what was going on as was every other student. In fact, she was sure they were passing around their own notes and quoting passages just like everyone else, only their comments were far more scathing and disapproving. Though not everyone who wasn't a Slytherin agreed with Harry. There were still plenty of kids who looked suspiciously at him when he passed or would quote the interview with dubious expressions and tones, still too stubborn to give in.

More than anything, Ginny wanted to find Harry and congratulate him, but she saw him so little she was sure she wouldn't have a chance until their next Occlumancy lesson. And after the Quibbler was banned, Harry was suddenly the most popular kid in school. Girls flocked to him to secretly have their magazines signed and boys were thump him on the back whenever they passed. Even if she had seen him between then and Sunday, she wouldn't have been able to get close with the crowds that were swarming him.

On her way from Transfiguration, however, she saw Harry heading towards the classroom and gathered her courage to go and talk to him. But Cho got there first. With tears in her eyes she simpered about his bravery and about how moving the article had been. It made Ginny so mad that she figured she'd keep her opinions to herself; Harry probably didn't care what she thought. He caught her eye while she was standing there and flashed a quick smile in her direction, sending her heart beating wildly. She hated herself for the reaction, but couldn't help but be happy that he'd noticed her. Despite the anger that still burned insider her, she stayed put until he made his way over to the classroom, looking a little too happy for her liking.

"Congratulations," she managed without too much bitterness.

"Thanks." He was grinning. "I wasn't expecting this big of a reaction."

"Really?" she asked, genuinely surprised. "The whole school has been dying to know about this—the whole Wizarding world! Of course they were going to react…"

He hitched one shoulder up and then let it fall back down. "I'm pretty happy about it. Though, I suppose it's not the sort of thing you're supposed to be happy about." His smile faded, replaced with a dark look in his eyes and a crease in between his eyebrows. "They should have listened earlier."

Ginny was silent for a moment, watching him with surprise. His emotions were so intense, so obvious. She could read every thought that crossed his mind simply by watching his expressions change. "Better late than never," she said softly, trying to sound encouraging, though coming across as more upset than anything else.

"Not by much," he grumbled. "It's been almost a year. How long until Fudge listens and something's _done_ about this? Frankly, all this did was get me in more trouble with the Ministry, I'll bet."

She bit her lip; she hadn't thought about that.

"Someone higher up has got to believe you," she insisted.

"Rita Skeeter didn't believe it," he pointed out blandly. "And I doubt any serious reporter will believe her. It'll be a while…"

"Mr. Potter," said a sharp voice behind her, making her jump. "Class has begun, if you'd care to join us."

Ginny turned around to see Professor McGonagall standing with hands on hips in the doorway of her classroom. Harry, still frowning, slouched past her without a word and left Ginny standing in the hall feeling like she'd missed something important.

* * *

Their next Occlumancy lesson felt very awkward, like Harry had realized what had happened the last time and was being a little more cautious. Ginny found it hard to focus with him acting so strangely, and her lack of concentration was obvious in her performance. Furious at herself, she struggled to keep him out of her mind, though memories of the past week popped up often during the practice. Her face flushed crimson and her hands shaking with frustration, she left the room with a very short goodbye. Harry gave a similarly curt reply. That night she slept fitfully, waking in the early hours of the morning, sweating and gasping, and, rather than attempting to sleep again, going down to the Common Room to wait for dawn.

She would have done homework, but there was none to be done. She would have worked on her _The Owl Exams and You_ workbook, but she had already finished it. So instead she sat in front of the fire, brooding slightly and attempting to conjure up some kind of happy memory in order to practice her Patronus charm. Her efforts were somewhat halfhearted, though and her Patronus was far weaker than it had ever been. Most of the time she was only able to force a feeble mist to slip from her wand, which then would hover in the air for a few seconds before evaporating. Her eyes watered with fatigue and she had to force herself to stay awake, but she didn't once consider going back up to bed. She would only have another nightmare and, by that point, she was getting pretty sick of them. There were nights when she awoke so terrified that she wasn't entirely sure what was reality and what was the dream. Other times she woke trembling with excitement, furry, or curiosity that was not her own. That often scared her far more than the nightmares which, at least usually, she could convince herself weren't real. Where the thoughts and emotions were coming from, she wasn't sure; the only explanation she could think of was that she was in reality being possessed, but she'd silenced that fear long ago, for her own sanity's sake. Sometimes she wondered if that had been the wisest move, but she never went back on it.

At around five in the morning, when the sky seemed to darken somewhat in the anticipation of dawn, she heard footsteps on the stairs and a voice called down to her.

"Ginny?"

She spun around, her latest attempt at a Patronus vanishing with her broken concentration.

"I thought it was you when I saw the Patronus," said the stranger, whose voice she was beginning to recognize. A boy stepped down a few more stairs, coming into the light somewhat so that she was able to identify him.

"Dean," she said in surprise. "What are you doing up so early?"

"I could ask you the same thing," he pointed out, reaching the bottom of the stairs and stopping to lean against the wall.

"Couldn't sleep," she said evasively. "You?"

He answered without missing a beat. "I have some homework I need to get done and I work better in the morning. I hate staying up late, so I try to wake up early when there's something unpleasant to be done."

She nodded, feeling somewhat uncomfortable now that she had time to think about the fact that they were alone together. He was already dressed in his Hogwarts uniform, his robes slung over one shoulder, but she was still in her pajamas, and she was extremely aware of it all of the sudden.

"Getting anywhere?" he asked, startling her from her thoughts.

"What?" she responded, confused.

"With the Patronus," he prompted.

"Oh," she said quickly. "No, not really. I don't concentrate as well as you do in the morning."

"Hmm," he said, drawing his own wand. "Maybe now I can finally beat you." He gave her a friendly smile to assure her the competition was purely for fun. She hated herself for only being able to think about how awful she looked, still in her night things and with a bed head she hadn't bothered to deal with. "Expecto Patronum!" he said confidently and a silvery shape erupted from the end of his wand, one much more corporeal than anything Ginny had managed to produce that night.

"You win," she said, trying to smile. "I haven't come anywhere near that good this morning."

"Excellent." He grinned.

She had to admit that Dean was a pretty good looking guy. He was tall, dark, and handsome with an infectious smile and an easy personality that made you like him right off. But he was quiet enough not to notice, only talking openly once you'd gotten to know him. Age and maturity had also helped in producing that image, because she remembered him being much louder in his second and third years. He'd grown up while his friend Seamus had matured at a much slower rate. Perhaps that also helped, because it was easy to like Dean in contrast to Seamus. Not that Seamus wasn't likable, he was just louder and more boisterous, the kind of person you heard more than saw. Dean was just the opposite.

He pealed himself away from the wall and made his way towards her. She quickly spoke up, not liking the silence that had fallen between them. It had not been a long or awkward one, but it was allowing her to think in avenues she wasn't interested in.

"What unpleasant task is it that's getting you up this morning?" She tried to sound nonchalant as he came and sat down in the chair a few feet away.

"History of Magic," he said with a grimace. "A nasty essay on the history of the Order of Merlin. I got about halfway through yesterday before I gave up."

She nodded and turned to stare into the fire. "Sounds awful," she said evenly.

He was silent for a moment and then changed the subject suddenly. "Are you okay?" he asked, sounding genuinely concerned. "You look exhausted."

She shrugged, hoping to look as indifferent as possible, though her mind raced with possible lies to cover up the frightening truth. "I've had some trouble sleeping lately," she said as calmly as she could manage, leaving it at that.

"Anything I can do?"

The words seemed strange coming from him, though her reaction was stranger. She wished there was something he could do, though she knew that was ridiculous. Instead of giving him a real reply, she turned and gave him a disingenuous smile. "I'm all good, thanks," she said simply. Then, before he could say anything else, she added, "I'm going to go take a shower. See you around." She stood quickly and headed up the stairs.

"See you," he called after her and she felt hard guilt settle in her stomach.


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; not the plot, not the setting, not the characters. I'm just making a few changes. You should be able to recognize them. =D Some of the dialogue from this chapter comes directly from _Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_ chapter Twenty-Six "Seen and Unforseen." Thank you Rowling!

A/N: Hey everyone! Thanks for still reading! I am SOOOO sorry that it's taken me so long! It's a long story, so I'll just say that I've been really busy and sorta suffering from writer's block. So thanks if you've stuck with this! For those of you still not reviewing, I really would love it if you would start. I know that there's at least 38 of you reading and I still have only 28 reviews…somehow the numbers don't add up Please review! Other quick notes: I want to know if you think I should continue this story into the seventh book. Currently it's supposed to end with the sixth book but if you feel like I should continue, then I will. Please, let me know! In your next review or in a PM just say yea or nay. Thanks for your support!

Chapter 18

Tension hung heavily over the school as the year wore on. Umbridge had gone from being a simple irritation to a full out threat and the entire staff was on edge from having her sit at the back of her classes, scratching and scribbling on her clipboard as she took notes on everything they did. It was very clear that Hagrid would not be long at the school at this rate, and a few other teachers seemed just as likely to be leaving as he did. Ginny felt just awful about all this, but she had other things to be worried about, and her main concern with Umbridge was whether or not she would discover the DA. With the new Inquisitorial Squad fully active, it couldn't be long before a large group of students studying Defense Against the Dark Arts illegally would attract attention. They'd been pretty good about keeping themselves hidden up to that point, but things were getting more and more apprehensive with each passing day. Everyone was just waiting for the school to finally reach its breaking point, and it happened far sooner than anyone would have liked.

It was cloudy and miserable outside, but the cool air felt soothing against Ginny's flushed skin. She had spent the last hour brewing a foul-smelling potion that did not resemble the assignment nearly as much as she would have liked, and she took her time using the peace of the outdoors to calm her down. The air was thick with the smell of wet dirt and grass. It was relatively calm and quiet, excluding the whistle of the wind, until suddenly a horrible shriek from inside, which (even though she was not far from the great oak doors of the castle) was loud enough to be heard all the way outside, made her jump. A chill ran down her spine and she hurriedly turned back to check on what the source was, though her instincts warned her that she might not want to know.

Students were flocking toward the Entrance Hall, whispering among themselves and straining to get a better look at the little clearing in the center where stood none other than Professor Tralawny. She looked pale and even more wide-eyed and shocked than was usual. Every part of her was trembling and she stared in horror at the stair case, upon which stood a horribly smug-looking Professor Umbridge. Next to the shaking professor was an assortment of trunks and boxes. In one hand, she held her wand. In the other, she held a bottle of Sherry. Realization struck Ginny as the mad-looking professor opened her mouth to speak.

"No!" she shrieked. "NO! This cannot be happening….It cannot…I refuse to accept it!"  
"You didn't realize this was coming?" replied Umbridge with a horrid smirk on her toad-like face. "Incapable though you are of predicting even tomorrow's weather, you must surely have realized that your pitiful performance during my inspections, and lack of any improvement, would make it inevitable you would be sacked?"

Ginny felt no connection to Trelawney, but the smug tone in Umbridge's immediately put Ginny on the Divination teacher's side. Shivering with furry, Ginny quickly looked away from the scene, afraid that she would not be able to contain herself if she watched much longer. Her eyes scanned the crowd instead, eventually falling upon her brother and, standing beside him, Hermione and Harry. His green eyes were narrowed with hate and his mouth was set in a hard line. He too, was crawling with unpleasant emotions as he watched the two Professors.

"You c-can'!" howled Professor Trelawney, tears streaming down her face from behind her enormous lenses, "you c-can't sack me! I've b-been here for sixteen years! H-Hogwarts is my h-home!"

"It _was_ your home, said Professor Umbridge, clearly taking some wicked enjoyment out of torturing the pitiful woman before her, "until an hour ago, when the Minister of Magic countersigned the order for your dismissal. Now kindly remove yourself from this hall. You are embarrassing us."

Slack jawed with rage and confusion at how anyone could be so terrible, Ginny starred at the woman she had come to loath over the past year. Her opinion of Professor Umbridge had not been so strong nor so vehement as had Harry's or Hermione's, but she had developed a steadily growing revolution at everything she did, or failed to do. Now, she new, standing in that hall, that she hated her, without any shred of doubt.

Suddenly, from behind her came another teacher, sweeping past with such a determined step that it could only have been one person; Professor McGonagall strode through the spectators and over to Professor Trelawney's side, her face set in a foul expression, and slid an arm around the sobbing woman's shoulders. She pulled a handkerchief from her robes and offered it to Trelawney, then patted her back gently.

"There, there, Sibyll…Calm down….Blow your nose on this…It's not as bad as you think, now….You are not going to have to leave Hogwarts…."

"Oh really, Professor McGonagall?" said Umbridge in a deadly voice, taking a few steps forward. "And your authority for that statement is…?"

"That would be mine." Ginny knew that voice. It was deep and powerful, and coming from right behind her. She turned around slowly and found that she was rooted to the spot. Dumbledore was standing framed in the doorway seeming to radiate a kind of power that she had never seen before. It was an amazing sight. The other students shuffled to the side, and she slowly followed suit, but her eyes stayed focused on the headmaster as he strode through the hall to stand beside the weeping Professor Tralawny. He came to a halt at her side and offered her a handkerchief as Professor Umbridge, who was clearly very flustered by the headmaster's arrival, attempted to gather herself for another attack.

"Yours, Professor Dumbledore?" she managed with a singularly unpleasant little laugh. "I'm afraid you do not understand the position. I have here"— she pulled a parchment scroll from within her robes — "an Order of Dismissal signed by myself and the Minister of Magic. Under the terms of Educational Decree Number Twenty-three, the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts has the power to inspect, place upon probation, and sack any teacher she—that is to say, I—feel is not performing up to the standard required by the Ministry of Magic. I have decided Professor Trelawney is not up to scratch. I have dismissed her."

"You are quite right, of course, Professor Umbridge," Dumbledore said, taking Ginny completely by surprise; his smile was still firmly in place. "As High Inquisitor you have every right to dismiss my teachers. You do not, however, have the authority to send them away from the castle. I am afraid that the power to do that still resides with the headmaster, and it is my wish that Professor Trelawney continue to live at Hogwarts."

Everyone began to murmur amongst themselves, as Trelawney gave a wild little laugh, hiccupping in the middle.

"No—no, I'll g-go, Dumbledore! I sh-shall l-leave Hogwarts and s-seek my fortune elsewhere—"

"No," said Dumbledore sharply. "It is my wish that you remain, Sibyll."

He then turned to McGonagall and asked her to escort Trelawney upstairs, which she did immediately. Then, he surveyed the students, his gaze steady and piercing, before turning back to Umbridge. But in that short moment when Dumbledore looked in her direction, Ginny felt an unfamiliar emotion boil in her chest. Suddenly, she both feared and resented him. She wanted nothing more than for him to disappear. She _hated_ him. Her breath got in her throat at the thought, which seemed both foreign and fitting. Like it was placed there by someone else, but undoubtedly belonged to her. Horrified, she stumbled backwards into a Ravenclaw who gave her a little shove in return. She shook her head, trying to clear her mind of what had just happened. Had it even happened at all? Taking a deep breath, she made a decision.

Ginny began trying to push her way through the crowd to where Harry, Ron, and Hermione were standing. She missed the next little portion of Dumbledore's and Umbridge's conversation, which was lost amidst the whispers of the students, which rose in volume suddenly along with Ubridge's voice which went extremely shrill as she said, "_You've _found?" Ginny had reached the others by that point. She tried to get beside Harry, to speak to him, but Ron was blocking her way, still listening avidly to Umbridge and Dumbledore arguing. Harry had his eyes on the great oak doors, along with everyone else, but Dean, who was standing a little ways away, made his way over to her and poked her in the shoulder. She looked up at him and he gave a her look that said, "Can you believe this?" She shook her head in response, wishing that he'd go away just long enough for her to get to Harry, so she turned away from him to watch as the front doors swung open to reveal a man with white-blonde hair, astonishingly blue eyes, and the body of a palomino horse. Her jaw dropped slightly as Dumbledore introduced the new Divinations teacher.

"This is Firenze," said Dumbledore happily to a thunderstruck Umbridge. "I think you'll find him suitable."

"Harry! Harry!"

He couldn't hear her over the noise of the crowd. She pushed through to try and reach him, but he was moving away, carried by the current of people. Frustrated, she called after him again without getting his attention and stomped her foot in irritation, accidentally bringing it down on a first year's toe. He let out a yelp and rushed away, giving her a look of shock and irritation. Suddenly, someone was touching her back and she jumped, closing her eyes and scrunching her shoulders against the stranger. Then, they were laughing softly at her, and she turned to see Dean's dark eyes smiling at her. She glared at him slightly, but took a deep breath and tried to calm herself enough to speak.

"You okay?" He asked before she could say anything.

She opened her mouth but no sound came out. Swallowing, she finally managed to squeeze out the words, "I'm fine," which she knew sounded horribly unconvincing.

He frowned just a little, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Let's get outta here, it's way too crowded."

She nodded, grateful that he hadn't pushed the subject. They turned and allowed the crowd to carry them to the stairs. For a moment, they walked in silence.

"He's…mental," Dean said of Dumbledore suddenly.

"Mental," Ginny agreed, "but brilliant." Her head hurt at the thought of him. She wished Dean had picked a different subject.

"Well, of course," Dean said quickly. "He's just…well…there's no one else like him is there?"

She laughed in a way that felt more like choking. "No, there isn't."

The crowd thinned as they reached the stair case and they were able to take things at a more leisurely pace. Ginny fell back a bit, running over the past few minutes in her mind. Dean slowed as well and she glanced up at him for a second to see a somewhat troubled expression on his face. She cocked her head to one side and frowned slightly.

"You okay?"

"Huh? Yeah, sure…" he said, sounding distracted. She didn't press him further, though, knowing that she wouldn't have liked to be questioned any more than that. Eventually, he turned to look at her like he was going to speak, but he quickly turned away, and they walked the rest of the way to Gryffindor Tower in silence. She mentally thanked him for that. They reached the portrait hole and Dean offered the password, standing aside to let her in first. She clambered through clumsily, her eyes scanning the room for Harry. For a moment, she panicked when she could not see him, but she found him sitting in a corner, glowering out the window. She almost tripped trying to get to him, but as she stumbled, Dean caught her arm.

Blushing, she looked up at him and found that same distracted look in his eye. That really caught her off guard. "Dean…what's up? You don't seem yourself…"

He released her arm a little more quickly than was polite, but she could tell he didn't mean to offend her. He simply looked out of place and she couldn't blame him for feeling awkward. Stuffing his hand in his pockets, he looked down at the rug, a crease forming between his eyebrows. His mouth was shut tight, but it seemed like he was trying very hard either to say something, or to hold something in. Then, shrugging, he looked up, attempting a smile.

"Sorry…just thinking." He let out a tight breath.

She was surprised just how concerned she was all of the sudden. Just a moment ago, she was all too eager to get rid of him so she could go find Harry and get her own problems off her chest, but now, she wasn't so interested in herself. At that moment, Dean was more important. The feeling took her aback a little, but she didn't question it.

"You sure?" she asked softly.

He nodded; one corner of his mouth tweaking upwards. She felt her face turn warm.

"I'll see you later I guess," he said, looking away suddenly, obviously feeling a little uncomfortable.

"Yeah—" she said a bit too quickly. "Yeah."

He shrugged his shoulders again, then back up until he was at the stairs to the boy's dormitories and then turned to leave. Shaking her head and feeling a little confused, Ginny turned around and headed straight to where Harry was sitting.

He looked up as she approached, but she didn't hesitate when she saw the look of surprise on his face. She sat down in the chair closest to him and scooted it even a little closer so that she could lean over and speak to him in a whisper.

"I've got to tell you something," she started, knowing how strange this must seem.

He was still giving her a strange look, but he nodded, indicating that she should continue.

"I think…I think I just saw into Voldemort's mind…"


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; not the plot, not the setting, not the characters. I'm just making a few changes. You should be able to recognize them. =D

A/N: Alright everybody, I'm really sorry for how long it's been since I've been consistently updating, but I'm gonna try and be better. Hope you enjoy the next chapter! Keep the reviews coming, they are so great! Thanks to all who are reviewing and PLEASE START if you aren't reviewing yet! Thanks again!

Chapter 19

Harry blinked in surprise. "What?" he asked, his voice coming out a little hoarse, as though he'd forgotten for a moment how to speak. Anxiously, he glanced around, then turned back to her, his brow furrowed with concern. He lowered his voice slightly, leaning forward to ask, "Are you sure?"

"No…" she admitted, squirming in her chair. "But, I can't think of any other explanation…"

"What happened?"

She licked her lips nervously. "Um…" She could feel herself blushing. It wasn't exactly the kind of thing she felt like sharing. But she knew she needed to tell him—who else could help her?

"I…" How should she start?

"Are you sure you want to tell me?" Harry asked suddenly. He leaned back in his chair, his face clearly showing his interest in the subject, but he seemed to understand her inability to speak.

"Yes, yes, I'm sure," she insisted, dropping her head into her hands. "I just…I don't _know_ what happened." She took a deep breath, then, knowing that the only way to actually get the words out was to _just get the words out_, she plunged forward. "It was when Dumbledore looked at me in the crowd just now. Suddenly I—um…I hated him….I can't explain it!"

She was afraid to look up at him. He remained silent, which she took as a sign that she should continue. "It was like, this feeling that wasn't mine, but it was at the same time. I hated him and I wanted to…I…" she struggled for the words.

"Hurt him?" Harry supplied softly. His voice sounded unfamiliarly low and uneven.

She raised her head to meet his gaze. "Yes." Her face must have shown the confusion she felt, because it was Harry's turn to shift uncomfortably in his seat. "How did you…?"

He glanced around the room again, then leaned so far forward that they were only a few inches apart. "That night that I dreamed about your dad and the snake...when Dumbledore looked me in the eye, I felt that same way. It was like someone else was deciding my emotions. And in that second, I was the snake again. And I wanted to hurt him…to bite him." He had a somewhat guilty look in his eye, but he kept his gaze steady. "Was it like that?"

"Yes!" she said, a little too loudly. Harry's eyes squeezed shut and he held up a hand to silence her. "Yes," she repeated, softly this time. "It was like I was feeling somebody else's emotions, but they were mine as well. And I—" her voice caught in her throat. She swallowed, then forced herself to continue. "I can't think what else it could have been, but me feeling You-Know-Who's emotions." She wasn't sure why she hadn't used his name, but at that moment, it didn't feel right, like she'd realized that the word had left her mouth before and she was trying to call it back.

Harry was scowling now, turning to look out the window. Silence fell between them for a long moment.

"Does that make sense?" Ginny asked, almost begging for a response.

His shoulders hitched up, then came back down again. "I don't know. I suppose so. I thought it myself, but I'd like to hope that that's not what it was. It's possible. And if it _is_ right, then it confirms what we've thought for a while now—that you and Voldemort are connected somehow. Hopefully, he doesn't know it yet."

He turned back to look at her and she could read real concern in his eyes. The sight was both relieving and frightening. For as long as she'd known him, she'd wanted to be able to put him in her confidence like this, to see him be concerned about her and her problems. But if it meant that she was connected mentally with the Dark Lord, she might rather pass.

"So…" she didn't know how to finish that sentence. "What now?"

Leaning back in his chair, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. His hand ran through his hair, lifting his bangs to show his lightning bolt scar for the briefest of moments, and giving him a windswept look. He took his time thinking over a response, then, finally, he said, "I'm really not sure. I guess you just keep practicing Occlumency. I don't really know what else to tell you. Unless you want to talk to Dumbledore—"

"No." Her response was so immediate that Harry's mouth was still open when she said the word. "No, I can't. I don't think that's a good idea."

"Okay," he said, his posture defensive. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

"I don't want to."

"Fine." He looked back out the window again.

She dropped her eyes to her knees, unsure how to continue, or if she should continue at all. Part of her was desperate to keep talking to him, to find out that this wasn't so bad after all. But a large portion of her was ready to run away. Now that this was all out in the open, she was exhausted and she wanted to be alone.

Her mind didn't have long to wander. A familiar voice interrupted her thoughts from directly behind her, making her jump.

"What have you too been talking about so secretly?" Ron demanded, taking a seat from a table full of third years and squeezing it in between Harry and Ginny. The two of them exchanged glances. "I mean, it looks like you're really upset about something. Real conspirators, you too. Never knew you guys were so close…"

She could tell he was trying to annoy her into giving him an answer, but she wasn't about to give in. Giving Harry as inconspicuous a pleading look as she could, she glanced into the center of the room and away from Ron. Harry cleared his throat.

"Just worrying about the quidditch cup," Harry lied smoothly. "It looks like we'll be hard pressed to win this year."

"Oh," Ron said, his face falling. "Yeah, I s'pose."

"Look, it's not your fault, Ron," Harry pointed out quickly. "Without Fred and George as beaters…frankly their replacements are barely passable as beaters at all."

"Yeah, but if I didn't let in so many goals, it wouldn't matter who was playing beater, would it?" Ron demanded, already beginning to sulk. Harry looked like he wished he'd picked a different subject.

"You're not half bad, Ron, really," Ginny insisted. "You just need to focus and you're as good as the next Keeper."

Ron made a humphing sound, looking even more downcast.

"Oh, please tell me you're not talking about quidditch," Hermione said, approaching them with her arms pilled full of books. "It's the only thing Ron seems to think about nowadays and it _always_ puts him in a foul mood."

Ron turned around to argue with her and Ginny quietly excused herself, not eager to sit in on the three friends bickering. Harry watched her leave and she felt his eyes on her back as she mounted the stairs which made her face flush, though she hated herself for it.

Her room was empty when she arrived, for which she was extremely grateful. She wandered over to her bed and, with painfully slow movements, she pulled her robes over her head, followed by her sweater. Shivering, even though the room was kept toasty by the furnace in the center of the dorm, she buttoned on her pajamas and crawled into bed. The sheets felt beautifully soft against her skin. Part of her was fearful of falling asleep, especially after what had happened that evening, but she could hardly keep her eyes open and, after all she'd been through that year, she was desperate for at least _one_ night of peaceful sleep. Though she knew better than to hope, hope she did that tonight would be that night. She closed her eyes and did not open them again until early the next morning when she woke covered in a cold sweat and biting back a cry so as not to wake her roommates.


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; not the plot, not the setting, not the characters. I'm just making a few changes. You should be able to recognize them. =D

A/N: Alright everybody, I'm really sorry for how long it's been since I've been consistently updating, but I'm gonna try and be better. Hope you enjoy the next chapter! Keep the reviews coming, they are so great! Thanks to all who are reviewing and PLEASE START if you aren't reviewing yet! 115 of you got to chapter 19, so why are there only 37 reviews? The math doesn't add up.

I'm on chapter 20, that's really exciting! Hope you're all excited too!

Hey, could you all do me a favor? In your next review, if you feel comfortable sharing, please just tell me your gender. I want to know what kind of audience this story appeals to. If you don't want to share, don't worry about it, but if you do, I'd love to know who's reading. Thanks again!

Chapter 20

It was a relief to be at the DA again. Ginny's mind had been so preoccupied lately that a little bit of hexing and jinxing in her brothers' direction going unpunished was a good thing. She and George spent a good part of the warm up shooting random curses at each other, rather than their partners. Once again, Ginny was partnered with Dean and he was enjoying the whole thing immensely. If Harry wasn't attempting to stop the Weasley sibling's ricocheting spells, he was sending Dean irritated looks whenever he would laugh at George and Ginny's antics. They were disrupting the class quite a bit, but almost everyone was enjoying the show, so eventually Harry just stopped trying, though he still was watching Dean closely. Laughing and feeling much more relaxed after the warm up, Ginny joined her partner in their usual corner and once again they took up the practice of Patronuses.

They worked in turns for a while, trying to outdo each other. Dean had improved quite a bit, and Ginny was, as usual, doing well. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, leaning back against the wall to watch Dean's Patronus, which was now definitely taking on a shape. It looked a lot like a falcon, and Ginny marveled at its beauty, though she couldn't help but wonder why it had taken that particular form.

"It's really beautiful, Dean," she said, almost more to herself than to him.

He turned around and flashed her a quick smile. She was taken aback by Dean's smile every time she saw it. He was handsome, she knew that, but his smile was something else altogether. It was simultaneously innocent and cheeky, like he didn't realize his own good looks, and it always made her feel a little lightheaded to see him smile. She didn't understand why, nor did she want to think about it much. Her face grew warm this time as he smiled at her.

"Thanks," he said smoothly. "So's yours."

She felt herself turning red, which made her feel even more embarrassed because she couldn't think why that made her blush. "I don't get why it's a horse…" she said the first thing that came into her mind.

"I do…I think," he said, but didn't explain any further.

"…And?" she prompted.

He laughed a little, looking slightly embarrassed. "Well, horses sorta always symbolize things like loyalty, grace, beauty, power, that kinda stuff." He shrugged. "Reminds me of you."

"Thanks," she laughed, hoping it sounded as lighthearted as she intended, instead of full of confusion. "I'd certainly like to think I'm all those things."

"You are," he said, more firmly this time.

"Thanks, Dean." And this time she meant it, too.

He shifted uncomfortably, turning away to watch his mostly-formed Patronus soaring overhead of the DA. She watched too, but her mind wasn't on the bird.

"Hey, Ginny?" His voice was low, so she had to lean forward to hear.

"Yeah?"

"I was wondering…you wouldn't be interested in spending a little more time together, would you? I mean—I really like talking with you, you're a lot of fun and…"

She didn't hear the rest.

Harry was shouting at all of them to get out, to run away. Standing beside his knees and jumping up and down, beating his little fists against his oversized head, stood Dobby, looking more than a little bit frightened and upset.

_BOOM!_ The Room of Requirement echoed with the sound of a spell exploding against stone.

Dean spun around and grabbed Ginny by the wrist. She didn't have time to react, nor did she hear the words he was shouting at her as he pulled her along; the sound of the wall breaking apart drowned out almost everything but the panicked screaming of the younger students. Before she knew what was going on, she was racing down the hall, Dean pulling her behind him, and she wondered how they'd managed to get out without being caught. But most importantly in her mind, she wondered what had happened to Harry. She glanced over her shoulder. He was nowhere in sight.

The common room was full of hysterical students trying to keep their voices down as they speculated on what had happened to those that had yet to return. Most especially Harry. Ginny sat beside Hermione whose fingers were intertwined so intricately and twisting nervously in her lap that Ginny was almost worried that her friend was going to hurt herself. Ron was pacing around, muttering under his breath. The only words Ginny caught of his ramblings were things like "evil toad," "slimy git," and, "most likely Malfoy." She was no less uneasy than them, but she had no idea how to show it. What could she do? Obviously she wasn't going to rush into the headmaster's office to save him. Short of that, all she could do was sit there silently and pray that he returned in one piece. She was fairly sure that Dumbledore wouldn't allow anything serious to happen to Harry, but at the same time, she knew exactly what Umbridge must be thinking about the DA. The name alone—which she recalled now with a painful lurch of guilt in her stomach—was her idea, was enough to "prove" all of Umbridge's worst fears to be true. Even if Harry got off easy, he'd be stuck with a life time of detention, along with the rest of them, she was sure. That is, if Umbridge knew who else was involved….Her mind was reeling with constant questions and fears which she longed to quiet. But she knew better than to try. She would not be at ease until Harry returned.

Across the room sat Dean. Seamus was whispering urgently to him, but half the time Dean was shooting furtive glances at Ginny and didn't seem to be paying much attention to his friend. There was another unanswered question: Dean. She couldn't pretend that she didn't know what he meant by what he'd said earlier about "spending more time together." She also couldn't pretend that the thought didn't send her heart racing or make her want to smile stupidly for no apparent reason. But at the same time, she wasn't sure it was what she wanted. He'd basically asked her out with possible intentions beyond that, which left her feeling somewhat overwhelmed. She wasn't at her best at the moment, and hadn't been for almost a year. Being in a relationship at the moment seemed like a risky business.

At one point, Dean caught her eye and they spent a breathless moment watching each other and wishing they could think of something to do other than stare stupidly at one another before he finally flashed her that smile of his and she glanced down at the floor in embarrassment, feeling her cheeks flush even as she began to smile herself. She took a slow breath to steady herself and then turned towards Hermione so as not to let another incident like that happen again. Just as she did, Hermione hit her hard in the leg, but before Ginny could demand what had caused such a strange reaction, the common room erupted in noise. She turned around to see Harry stumbling through the portrait hole, looking thoroughly confused. Hermione and Ron rushed forward to part the crowd so Harry could make his way through and Ginny stood slowly, watching with concern but not coming any closer.

"What happened?" Ron demanded, shoving aside a third year who was getting too close.

"Ron—" Hermione started, but was cut off as Harry softly said, "He's gone."

The room fell silent.

"Gone?" Ron repeated after a long moment of shocked stillness. "What do you mean, _gone_?"

"He's gone!" Harry said, raising his voice slightly. "He left. Umbridge is headmistress now."

"No!" Hermione insisted, her voice downright steely. "No. McGonagall is headmistress. Umbridge has no right—"

"Since when has that stopped her?" Harry snapped.

Hermione's mouth shut almost audibly. Once again, no one could think of a response. A long moment of guilty silence stretched in the room as every member of the DA hung their head in shame, knowing it was their fault that Dumbledore had just been chased out of the school. Harry's face was ragged and tired, full of anger and confusion. Tentatively, Ginny took a step forward.

"Are you alright, Harry?" she asked quietly.

He looked up at her, but did not answer.

"What did Umbridge say? About the DA, I mean…?"

"She had no proof to blame it on us. Dumbledore took the blame," his answered dully. "We get off without so much as detention. She was too busy trying to send Dumbledore to Azkaban to really care about us. We're just an excuse."

"Is he going to Azkaban?" she prompted gently.

He scoffed and shook his head. "No…he disapparated before they could take him."

"But that's impossible," Hermione said with an air of extreme frustration, as though she'd said the same thing a hundred times. "No one can apparate or disapparate from the school _ever_. It's just not possible—"

"Well, I saw it, Hermione," Harry said, equally irritated. "I don't know how he did it, be he did. Besides, he's Dumbledore…who knows what he can do that no one else can?"

He had a point there, and the whole room broke into a steady stream of murmured conversations, which Harry took as his cue to head for the boy's dormitory. Ginny wanted to say something to him, but she couldn't think what. She watched him sulk off, feeling oddly empty inside. He disappeared up the stairs, and she too headed to bed. As she did, she could feel Dean's eyes on her back.


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; not the plot, not the setting, not the characters. I'm just making a few changes. You should be able to recognize them. =D

A/N: Just a note: I've changed the genre of this story from "Hurt/Comfort/Horror" to "Hurt/Comfort/Drama." It felt more fitting.

I also feel like I should explain the rating for this story. It's rated T just to be safe. I'm not sure how intense this is going to get later on, so I've rated it more extreme than it probably needs to be.

Hey, could you all do me a favor? In your next review, if you feel comfortable sharing, please just tell me your gender. I want to know what kind of audience this story appeals to. If you don't want to share, don't worry about it, but if you do, I'd love to know who's reading. Thanks again!

One last note: I'm currently in the middle of an international move and will be without the Harry Potter books on hand and hence I will be making up dialogue/fudging through some scenes because I cannot check them. I'll probably use the movies as my reference. So, sorry for the inconvenience, you'll just have to bear with me. And I have purposely decided to leave the swamp out because I really cannot bring myself to write it. I'm at the very uncomfortable stage between books when I am forced to write only Rowling's words as my own and I _hate_ that. I am eager for the sixth book to come around and that is making my writing sloppy. I apologize for that, but it's the sad truth. Until I _finally_ get out of the fifth book, things are going to be a lot more rushed and less detailed. Just so you know.

Chapter 21

The next week was an eventful one, especially for the Weasley family. Fred and George took Dumbledore's disappearance as an invitation to finally make Umbridge's life as difficult as possible, unhindered. And they weren't about to let such an opportunity pass them by.

Ginny was escaping arithmancy class by slipping off to the loo when the ground shook beneath her with the force of a blast so loud she thought she'd gone deaf. She dropped to the ground and covered her ears, but the worst was over. Now, pops, crackles, and the whizzing of rockets could be heard further down the hallway. Forgetting about her class and everything else, she raced down the hall until she could see what had caused all the commotion. Fireworks. An entire corridor full of them and, she was sure, more that she couldn't see. They were exploding everywhere, as if they were multiplying, and instead of dying out, they cartwheeled and bounced down the halls and off into the distance. They were the best fireworks Ginny had ever seen, but they were also, to her horror, marked with a logo that was all too familiar. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. She shook her head and sighed, though she was smiling despite herself.

Students were pouring out of classrooms, teachers squeezing through the crowds to try and discover the source of the distraction. Ginny expected them to be furious, but most of them look mildly entertained and even approving. The students were applauding loudly and cheering as the rockets did tricks in the air and shattered windows to escape outdoors. Harry was pushing his way through the crowd, Seamus and Dean leading the way. Seamus pointed to the fireworks and shouted something in Harry's direction, but Ginny couldn't hear it over the racket. The three of them laughed and watched the firecrackers char the ceiling as they danced along it. Harry followed the stream of rockets until his eyes fell on Ginny. He grinned at her and gave her an inquisitive look, asking her silently if she knew what had happened. She shrugged, but was smiling broadly. He broke her gaze and looked back up at the fireworks as Ron and Hermione pulled up beside him. Hermione looked somewhat horrified, but Ron was laughing so hard it seemed like he wasn't breathing.

A shrill voice interrupted the excited chatter of the students, and before Umbridge even showed her toad-like face, everyone in the corridor knew who was coming.

"What is this?" she demanded, her eyes wide with anger. "Who is responsible?"

Laughter erupted as the fireworks began to spell out a phrase which made Ginny cover her mouth in surprise. Umbridge turned purple.

"Enough!" she shrieked. "Find me the perpetrators!"

She began shooting spells at the rockets, but it did her no good. No matter what she tried, they refused to dissipate. More dirty words began to burn themselves into the wall. Umbridge barked orders at the other teachers, trying to get them to help her, which they did half-heartedly, insisting that they didn't know how to get rid of the fireworks either.

Eventually the students were shepherded back to class and made to try and concentrate while the firecrackers roamed the corridors making loud popping noises, shooting sparks, and spelling out insults to Umbridge. It was nearly impossible for anyone to focus, but they managed to sit through classes somehow. The second that her final class let out for the day, Ginny rushed off to find her brothers. They were nowhere to be seen, not at dinner, not in the common room, not in any of the usual—or unusual if you weren't Fred or George—places. Finally, she headed for the kitchen, the only place she hadn't checked, feeling less than hopeful that she'd find them there.

"…something to celebrate with," said a familiar voice, as Ginny entered the room.

"Here, here," seconded the other twin.

"Right away Masters Weasley," said a squeaky-voiced house elf.

Ginny rolled her eyes as she turned the corner and saw her two brothers lounging like the kings of the kitchen, their feet kicked up on the table. They were grinning stupidly and in their hands they held butterbeer bottles. Around them, the house elves were bustling about, juggling the dinner dishes and trying to bring satisfactory snack food for the twins.

"You too are unbelievable," Ginny sighed, leaning against the wall and folding her arms, trying to look displeased, though it took all her self-control not to smirk at them.

"Why hello there, sister," Fred said, pulling out a chair and motioning for her to sit down.

"Care to join us?" George offered merrily. "There's plenty to go round and we'd love for you to celebrate our victory with us."

"It's hardly a victory, George," Ginny cautioned. "Unbridge is looking high and low for you too and she's not happy. You could get expelled for this—"

"Oh who cares?" Fred snorted, taking the cake offered him by a particularly small house elf.

"He's right, Gin," George seconded. "Frankly, we're sick of this place. Who needs school anyway? We're all but _dying_ to get out of here and pursue more worthwhile dreams."

"Exactly," Fred agreed through a mouthful of cake.

"Besides…" George lifted his feet from off the table and leaned forward so that he and Ginny were eye to eye. "Where we're going, no one can stop us and no one can start us. We're the masters of our own fate. If the old toad chooses to throw us out, she's just made our job easier." He winked at her and she smiled despite herself.

George had always been Ginny's favorite brother. Not that she was supposed to have favorites, and it wasn't that she didn't love the others, just that George was the one she related to the easiest. Even though most people couldn't tell Fred from George if their lives depended on it, Ginny knew that they were as individual as they were identical. Fred was the more overpowering of the twins, the driving force in humor and everything else. George was the anchor, the one that was sturdy and reliable. While Fred would often change his mind mid-action, mid-sentence, or even mid-thought, George thought ahead and knew from the moment he started something what his plans were. They balanced each other out to the point where they seemed like one individual, working as a perfect team. On his own, George was just as funny, just as lighthearted as his twin. But he was also more predictable. Ginny had always turned to him for advice and comfort. Ron was too busy with himself to care much for her, other than his overprotective nature which kicked in at the most incontinent moments, and the others were all too old to know her well. But George, unlike Fred, was aware enough to pay attention to his only sister. The thought of them leaving now suddenly struck her and her heart sank, even though she knew it was probably for the best.

Her thoughts were interrupted suddenly by the sound of the kitchen door being kicked in. Ginny spun around, but the twins stayed calmly in place. George took a large swallow of butterbeer and Fred, grinning wickedly, pronounced a simple, "Speak of the devil," as he watched Umbridge strut in, looking thoroughly furious.

"Take them to the Great Hall," Umbridge commanded imperiously to her inquisitorial squad which jumped at the order.

"What about her?" one of them asked, grabbing Ginny by the elbow. She yanked her arm away, standing defiantly. Umbridge looked her over without much interest.

"She's in the kitchen without permission," the toad said blandly. "Take her up as well. I'll deal with her afterwards."

The Slytherin boy snatched Ginny's elbow again and steered her out of the kitchens, Fred and George being pushed along ahead of her.

A crowd was already forming as they climbed the stairs to the Great Hall. Ginny was left at the back of it, held in place by the large boy that still had his hand clamped tightly around her arm, while her brothers were led to the center of the crowd, Umbridge waddling ahead of them so that she could turn to face them when they came to a stop. She had that horribly smug look on her face, as usual, and Ginny had a strong urge to slap her. The crowd's voices died in one instant, like a candle being blown out, as they watched Umbridge begin to sentence the twins. Despite George's reassurances that he and Fred would be happier away from school, Ginny couldn't help but feel her stomach twist uncomfortably as the unwanted headmistress condemned her brothers for the heinous crime of setting off fireworks that were impervious to magic in the class room corridors. Though it wasn't at all unusual for the twins, she couldn't believe the looks of contentment on their faces. It almost seemed as if they were laughing at Umbridge, which only spurred her on. Finally, it got to the point where it seemed Umbridge was on the verge of doing something really serious when the twins interrupted her calmly, repeating in somewhat less polite terms what they had told Ginny before.

In unison, Fred and George lifted their wands and said simply, "Accio brooms."

Ginny shut her eyes and held her breath.

For a long moment, the room was silent. Then, the sound of metal being dragged along a stone floor and two brooms whooshing through the air ended the quiet and the students erupted into applause. The twins' brooms came sailing into the Great Hall, the chains that had held them locked up in Umbridge's offices swinging dangerously from them as they rushed forward and into her brothers' waiting hands. They swung their legs over the brooms and kicked off from the ground, dropping a few more firecrackers as they went, the crowd screaming their appreciation, and Ginny's heart sank. She felt suddenly and inexplicably alone. The twins were growing smaller and smaller as they rose to the top of the vaulted ceiling, but even from that distance Ginny could make out the wink that George sent her way. A smile tweaked at the corner of her mouth as they dove towards the great oak doors.

On their way out, they managed to leave Peeves an admonition to "give her hell," and to everyone's surprise, the poltergeist responded with an emphatic salute.

Then, leaving a few exploding fireworks in their wake, they were gone, and Ginny was left standing there, one of the two remaining Weasley's in Hogwarts.

XXXX

Ginny spent every evening of the next week in detention for being in the kitchens without permission. By the end of the week, the back of her left hand read _I will not dispute authority_, written in her own handwriting.


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; not the plot, not the setting, not the characters. I'm just making a few changes. You should be able to recognize them. =D

A/N: Hey, could you all do me a favor? In your next review, if you feel comfortable sharing, please just tell me your gender. I want to know what kind of audience this story appeals to. If you don't want to share, don't worry about it, but if you do, I'd love to know who's reading. Thanks again!

One last note: I'm currently in the middle of an international move and will be without the Harry Potter books on hand and hence I will be making up dialogue/fudging through some scenes because I cannot check them. I'll probably use the movies as my reference. So, sorry for the inconvenience, you'll just have to bear with me. I'm at the very uncomfortable stage between books when I am forced to write only Rowling's words as my own and I _hate_ that. I am eager for the sixth book to come around and that is making my writing sloppy. I apologize for that, but it's the sad truth. Until I _finally_ get out of the fifth book, things are going to be a lot more rushed and less detailed. Just so you know.

Chapter 22

Ginny sat in a corner of the Room of Requirement, her knees drawn up to her chest and her arms hugging her legs to her, waiting silently for Harry to show up. It was their seventh Occlumency lesson today and Harry was late. She was forcing herself not to look at her watch, afraid to have to tell herself she should just head back to the Common Room, that he wasn't coming. Though she hated the effects of the Occlumency, or at least what she assumed were the effects, she was hesitant to miss even one lesson. Part of her knew that it was her stupidly girlish desire to spend time with Harry, but the rest of her was actually fixated on solving the problem of her nightmares. Especially now after what had happened with Dumbledore only a few days before. She was convinced that Voldemort had some hold on her and she was equally convinced that she needed to do something about it. Occlumency seemed to be the only solution.

For a moment, she allowed herself to drop her head on her knees and close her eyes. She was exhausted, but she was getting used to it. She was at the point where, even if she didn't wake from a nightmare, she couldn't sleep past six in the morning. Her body was training itself to deal with her rather strange schedule. But even now, closing her eyes for just a moment, she could feel herself slipping into sleep. She was careful not to close her eyes during class, knowing she was likely not to open them again.

Her head jerked up at the sound of the door opening and she couldn't help but smile when she saw Harry, though it faded fast when she noticed his expression.

"What is it?" she asked, not bothering with a hello.

He looked up, slightly surprised at her blunt introduction. "Wha—nothing." He said it so quickly, she knew it was a lie. He shook his head and slouched over to the couch.

She stood, but didn't move away from the corner.

"Snape isn't going to teach me Occlumency anymore," he said after a short pause, watching his hands as he spoke. He didn't seem regretful about it, but obviously he was embarrassed.

"Why not?" She shifted slightly, but stayed put. For some reason, it seemed like a bad idea to cross the space between them and she felt pinned in place; by his tone, his obvious discomfort, or just the fact that he was late—she couldn't tell which—she knew that she was wanted far away.

He leaned back into the sofa, trying to seem relaxed. He didn't seem relaxed at all though, more like disgusted. But what with, Ginny couldn't tell.

"I saw a memory he didn't want me to."

He didn't elaborate further and Ginny didn't dare press him for details. For a long moment, she watched him stare at a spot on the rug, a look of confusion on his face. Finally, he looked up at her, though at first he did not speak. It was only after another stretch of silence that he finally said, "Maybe we shouldn't continue these lessons."

"No!" she said so quickly it surprised even her. "I mean…" Her face flushed slightly.

"It's not that I don't want to help, Ginny," he said, shifting in his seat. "It's just that I don't think I'm cut out for this. I'm no teacher and I can't even perform Occlumency properly myself. I've only been able to do it once. And now that Snape's not going to teach me anymore, I'm not sure you're really going to get any benefit out of this."

"But I can't just quit," she insisted, feeling like a stubborn child, but knowing that she wasn't going to change her mind.

"Ginny—"

"I'm serious, Harry. I can't stop now. Even if they're not doing anything, I have to feel like _I'm_ doing _something_."

He shook his head, still staring at the spot on the floor.

"I can't promise anything, Ginny. And I'm sure you have better ways to use your time…"

"I don't," she said flatly. "Trust me."

He sighed. "I want to help, really I do. But I can't see how this is getting us anywhere. You've improved a lot, but…."

"It's not about getting better," she admitted softly. He met her gaze levelly for the first time that evening. She refused to break eye contact, but she could feel her cheeks getting warm. "It's about me doing something—anything—to solve this. It doesn't matter if this gets me nowhere; I have to _feel_ like I'm fighting back."

His eyebrows knit together as he appraised her for a silent moment. Then, without a word, he stood and walked over to the opposite end of the room, lifting his wand and standing ready to start.

"Whenever you're ready," he said, shaking his head as though he was completely bewildered.

Ginny couldn't help but smile. "Thank you," she said, so softly she was afraid he wouldn't hear it. He nodded in response, silently telling her to take her place, and simultaneously saying you're welcome.

She did as she was told, standing ready to defend herself, clearing her mind as he counted down.

"…_three!_"

XXX

It was not their most successful lesson ever, but by the end, Ginny felt better than she had in a long while. She wished she could say something to express how much this meant to her, for Harry to help her, even when he was against the idea. But she couldn't find the words.

As Harry headed for the door, Ginny suddenly remembered the start of the session and she asked without thinking, "What memory did you see? Of Snape's I mean?"

He stopped, his hand reaching out for the doorknob. For a moment there was stillness and quickly Ginny spoke up to break it.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to…I was just curious. But it's none of my business."

He shrugged, obviously trying to cover for his previous discomfort. He turned around and stood with his hands in his pockets, looking over her shoulder instead of directly at her.

"I saw my dad. And Sirius and Lupin and Wormtail. And my mum." He said it blandly, like it wasn't anything important. But Ginny could tell that this was what had had him so upset at the beginning of the lesson and she almost wished she hadn't asked.

"It was in their fifth year."

"You don't have to tell me, Harry," she repeated, but he cut her off.

"It was after their OWLs. They went out to sit by the lake—my dad, I mean. Him and the other Marauders." Ginny had never heard the term, but she could only assume that he meant Lupin, Sirius and Wormtail. "They sat there, talking, and up came Snape. And they…they tormented him, teased him, in front of everybody. _My dad_, and all because Sirius said he was bored…"

He looked away from her, at the walls and then the floor, as if he was embarrassed by the words. But he didn't stop there. Despite the fact that he was clearly uncomfortable, he continued. "Then my mum came up. And she told them to stop. But Snape he…he called her a Mudblood. And said he didn't want her help." He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, still staring blankly at the wall. "They embarrassed him, harassed him, in front of everybody. Like it was nothing, like they did it all the time. And my mum," he laughed slightly, ironically, "she _hated_ my dad." He stopped for a second, his gaze dropping to the carpet. "I guess I can see why Snape was so mad."

"Harry," Ginny whispered.

He looked up at her, and this time there was no shame in his eyes, just relief at having finished. She didn't know what to say.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly.

"Why?" It was almost a laugh. "_I'm_ sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

"I didn't have the right not to tell you," he said firmly. "You answered me about the Chamber of Secrets when that was something you never should have been made to talk about. I owed you."

"Harry," she said again. She didn't know what else to say. "Thank you."

"Thanks for listening," he answered. "I think I needed to get that out."

Neither of them spoke for a moment and Ginny realized that there was a lot of silence between them. Not just now, but always. Without wanting to, her mind strayed to Dean as she thought of how different things were with him than with Harry. With Dean, there was always something to say, he was her someone to talk to. Harry, despite all her work to change it, was her someone to be silent with. Often there were long, awkward pauses when they were together, and they both spent much of that time brooding over some thing or another. With Dean, there was no need. She quickly steered her thoughts in a different direction.

"You know, you didn't owe me," she said suddenly, thinking of what he'd said before. "I told you about the Chamber because you were as much a part of that experience as I was. You deserved to know, I guess."

"In that case," Harry said slowly, "I wanted to tell you."

"Are you okay," she asked, as much because she didn't believe his last statement as because she was genuinely concerned. He seemed warn, confused, and—obviously—he was upset about what he'd seen in Snape's memory.

"Yeah," he said quickly, defensively. "I'm…I'm okay." He shifted his weight from his right foot to his left and then back again. "It's just…all these years, I've always thought my dad was such a great guy. But I never really knew him. Now I feel like I'm never going to. He's nothing like what I thought he was."

"You don't know that," she insisted. "One memory? Is that really enough to tell you what your dad was like? Besides, your mother would never have married him if he didn't grow up a little. What would your son think of you, if all he saw of you was a memory of you and Malfoy together?"

He laughed a little at that, which caught Ginny completely by surprise, though it relived her quite a bit.

"I never thought of that," he admitted.

"Glad I could help," she joked.

"You have," he said, completely serious. Ginny blinked. "Thank you."

"We should get back," she mumbled, glancing nervously at the clock, simultaneously glad for the break from the awkwardness of the moment and furious at herself for chickening out.

She lay awake for hours that night, berating herself for ending the conversation, rather than seeing where it would lead. Who knew what could have happened! half of her argued while the other half of her scoffed. Nothing would have happened. Harry Potter was far more concerned with other more important things in his life, and rightly so. Ginny Weasley was now and never would be anything more than Ron's little sister. Maybe, _maybe_ someday they'd be friends. But she didn't dare put that label on them now. Nor, she was sure, did he.

Back and forth she argued, until finally she got sick of her own pettiness and forced herself to clear her mind of Harry Potter. It took much longer than she would have liked, and that night she dreamed of Dean Thomas asking her to be more than his friend. She woke feeling confused and wishing she knew what to do.


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; not the plot, not the setting, not the characters. I'm just making a few changes. You should be able to recognize them. =D

A/N: Hey, could you all do me a favor? In your next review, if you feel comfortable sharing, please just tell me your gender. I want to know what kind of audience this story appeals to. If you don't want to share, don't worry about it, but if you do, I'd love to know who's reading. Thanks again!

Plus, I don't remember, nor can I find, who they played in this game, so I'm guessing Slytherin. Sorry if that's incorrect.

One last note: There has been a slight modification to chapter 21, at the very end, dedicated to dhmhtra375 for her dedication to this story. Thanks dhmhtra375, I really value your opinion and your reviews!

Chapter 23

Ginny woke up early on the morning of Gryffindor's final Quidditch match of the season. She knew what was at stake. They could win the cup if they won this game by enough points, but that was a stretch for them at the very least. Ron was so stressed, she was sure he'd hardly slept at all. Neither had she, but the game seemed small in comparison to what had kept her up all night. But she didn't linger on that that morning. She used the game as an excuse to keep her mind off of her dream. And, when she thought about it, she was equally scared of Angelina's wrath as she was of her dreams, so really she should be nervous. Much of this game was all up to her and Ron. If he could play well they'd be safe from too many goals against them, but if she didn't catch the snitch first, that would all be worthless in the end.

With a heavy sigh, she sat up and looked out the window. The sky was still dark, though it was turning pale on the horizon and the stars were beginning to wink out for the night. She wrapped her arms around her legs, pulling them up to her chest, and rested her head on her knees so that she could watch the sky turn purple, then pink, as the sun rose.

XXX

She didn't bother with breakfast that morning. Instead, she went straight to the showers and spent a long time standing in the stream of water, trying hard to catch her breath and ignore her pounding heart. The more people she saw, the more nervous she became. Everyone was talking about the match. Every girl that entered the bathroom was guessing as to the outcome, or discussing their favorite players. Ginny actually plugged her eyes for a time, trying to clear her head of the noise and the mounting pressure of being the Gryffindor Seeker in the last match of the season. Her head was throbbing by the time she was dressed in her Quidditch robes, and she spent the rest of the time before the game with Madam Pomfrey, getting a potion for her headache.

Finally, she couldn't hide any longer and she made her way down to the pitch. She could see a few of her teammates ahead, looking as solemn as though they were on their way to a funeral, but otherwise, the grounds were silent. Everyone was still at breakfast. So it caught her by surprise when she heard her name being called from behind her.

"Ginny! Wait up!"

She turned around slowly, squinting in the morning light, trying to make out who was talking to her. Her face flushed when she saw Dean's tall, lean figure striding across the grass, looking calm and just, well, cool. He always managed to seem so in control and she envied him for that, especially now, when all she could think when she saw him was how good he looked, dark and handsome in the pale morning light. Why that occurred to her, she couldn't imagine, but she quickly tried to push the thought out of her head before he reached her and she had to speak to him.

"Hey," she said, attempting to sound nonchalant.

"Hey." He'd reached her now and stood, hands in pockets, smiling at her. "You nervous?" He nodded in the direction of the Quidditch pitch.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Don't remind me," she begged.

He laughed softly and she couldn't help but smile at the sound. "You'll be fine," he reassured her. "You pulled through last game and you'll do it again."

"I was lucky last time," she pointed out, but he shrugged, brushing the comment away.

"Yeah, whatever. You're just being modest."

"No, really," she said as seriously as she could, though she was sure she probably didn't sound as convincing as she would have liked. "Right now I'm just hoping that I don't hyperventilate, pass out, and fall off my broom."

He laughed again. "Please don't."

She sensed more seriousness behind the words than he let on. "I'll try." She brushed her hair out of her face and glanced back at the pitch. The rest of the team had disappeared into the locker room.

"I should get going," she said, not turning to face him.

"Yeah," he mumbled. He seemed to have more he wanted to say, and she assumed there must have been some point behind him following her, other than to simply wish her luck. But part of her was half afraid to find out. "Hey, Ginny?"

She turned to look at him again. It made her feel short, standing next to him. He was at least six feet tall and when she looked him in the eye, she had to crane her neck slightly. "Yeah?"

He had a very sheepish look on his face. "I guess there's probably not time now," he said, watching the ground as if it were extremely fascinating, "but I want to talk to you about something. Do you think maybe—"

"I can't right now, Dean," she said quickly. A little too quickly. Her stomach was doing acrobatics. "Maybe after the match…?"

"Yeah, sure." He leapt at the option, obviously relieved she'd even agreed to speak to him in the first place, but seeming just as nervous as she was at the same time.

"Well…I-I'd better go," she stuttered, hating herself for being so silly.

"Yeah, sure," he repeated. "Good luck, you'll be great."

"Thanks."

They stood there for another moment, not knowing what to do, until finally Ginny shrugged and they both laughed awkwardly.

"Well, see ya," she said,

"Just go!" he joked. "We can't play without a Seeker."

She blushed, but she laughed again, too. "Okay, I'm going," she chuckled, turning her back on him. "See you after."

"Kick their asses."

"Right."

Quietly, she slipped into the locker room, trying not to be seen by Angelina who had already started an unconvincing pep talk. She sent Ginny an irritated look when she noticed her, but didn't interrupt her speech to snap at her, for which Ginny was grateful. Everyone was shifting nervously in their seats, staring down at the floor as though they were being yelled at by a parent. Ginny caught sight of Ron and, if she hadn't been so nervous herself, she would have laughed at how green he looked.

"So…that's it, really," Angelina was saying. "We can do this. We just have to focus. So stay with me guys, please. This is our last chance."

Everyone continued to stare at the ground, and Angelina, getting no response, took a seat on the bench and put her head in her hands. Ginny felt sorry for her, though she, too, felt like her stomach was not strong enough to get her through this match.

Finally, it was time for them to enter the pitch. They stood in one somber line and marched out onto the field, each player purposefully avoiding the sight of the crowd. Ginny could feel Dean's eyes on her, though she refused to look into the stands for him.

Angelina shook hands with the other captain, they mounted their brooms, and the entire stadium drew in a breath of anticipation. Everything seemed to fall silent for an instant, but it was shattered by Madam Hooch's whistle, and then the roar of the crowd and the rush of the wind past her ears.

The game was a blur. Players in red and green rushing past her so fast she couldn't keep track of who they were or what they were doing. She tried to keep her eyes peeled for the snitch, but the game was going at a speed she could hardly keep up with. Every time she thought she could see the snitch, it would disappear just as she would head in its direction. Her broom was much slower than the other Seeker's and she had to constantly watch her back and try to throw off the other player.

It seemed like the game lasted forever. Every corner she turned, every move she made, was tailed by the Slytherin Seeker. Finally, she caught sight of the snitch and made a snap decision. She feinted to the opposite side, diving so fast that the other Seeker immediately assumed she was going for the snitch. His faster broom brought him to the ground in half the time it took Ginny and she pulled up in time to dive for the snitch in the right direction. Almost before she knew it, her hand was closing around the little gold ball and she was collapsing on the ground while the rest of the team landed, cheering and shouting.

Ron landed a few feet away, stumbling off his broom and running over to pull her into a tight hug.

"Did you see that? Did you _see_ me?" he was yelling in her ear to be heard over the hollering crowd.

"Did we win?" Ginny asked, embarrassed by her own question. But the truth was, she'd hardly noticed anything else that was going on and the score could have been too late for her to save.

"Of course we won!" Ron shrieked. "We won the Quidditch cup!"

Before he could say anything else, the crowd pressed in on them and pulled Ron away from Ginny, lifting him up onto their shoulders and screaming out the song _Weasley is our King_. The rest of the team packed around, each one taking time to pat Ginny on the shoulder as they passed her. Angelina even gave her a hug, shouting a thank you to her that she could barely hear.

Feeling overwhelmed, and thoroughly exhausted, Ginny stood in the middle of the field while everyone else trooped off to the Gryffindor common room to celebrate. She wanted to lie down and fall asleep, but somehow she managed to drag herself to the locker room. It was empty; the other players were too excited to come and change. She was relieved to be alone, and she took her time showering and getting dressed. Her limbs were shaky and she had to take a minute to sit down and just collect herself. As she did, she realized for the first time just how excited she was. They'd just won the Quidditch cup! It had been a long shot, but they'd made it! She leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes, letting out a long sigh of satisfaction.

Eventually she decided she should head back, and she lifted her bag onto her shoulder and stepped back onto the Quidditch pitch. She let her bag drop as she walked onto the field. It was so different when it was empty, but it seemed beautiful and triumphant at that moment, and she allowed herself a little dance of celebration. She ended by punching her fist into the air, turned to face the castle which shone brightly in the distance. Suddenly, her thoughts were interrupted by applause.

Her face flushed bright red and she buried it in her hands for a moment, half hiding her embarrassment, half hiding the fact that she was laughing along with Dean who she could hear approaching her from the stands, chuckling to himself.

"You're a great dancer," he teased.

"Shut up!" She was laughing though, and she couldn't help it. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"Waiting for you," he said simply, leaning against the wall of the locker room, his hands in his pockets and a playful grin on his face.

"Right," Ginny sighed, suddenly remembering their conversation before the match. She began to blush again. He'd waited all that time for her and if that didn't mean he was serious about this, she didn't know what did. Part of her wanted to run away. The rest of her was glued in place.

Dean laughed when he saw the look on her face. "Am I unwanted?"

"No!" she blurted out faster than she would have liked. "It's just…I'm sorry, I forgot."

"It's fine," he said, peeling himself off the wall and walking towards her at a pace that seemed too measured and calm to be normal. Why did he always have to be so in control? She was hyperventilating.

"What did you want to talk about?" She stared at the wet ground, trying to act like the streaks of mud from where the teams had kicked off more than two hours earlier were extremely interesting.

"Well, I'd like to talk about us, if that's okay," he said, leaning forward, trying to catch her eye. "I asked you something before and you never answered me." She was silent for a long moment, afraid to open her mouth. "Do you remember?" he asked, and she almost laughed. Of course she remembered.

"Oh," she said stupidly. Why was that always the only thing she could manage at times like this? "Dean…"

"Look, Ginny," he interrupted gently. "I like you, and you like me, I can tell. And that's not me being a really stuck up guy that thinks all girls would be lucky to have him. That's me realizing that we'd be stupid to spend any more time liking each other without being brave enough to say anything."

She smiled slightly. He had a point, though she almost didn't want to admit it. Finally, she raised her eyes to look at him and laughed good and hard when she saw the look on his face. He was just as nervous as she was, maybe even more. His cheeks had flushed slightly and his normally cool exterior looked so sheepish it was downright cute. She wanted to give him a hug.

Then she realized something. She _did_ want to give him a hug. She wanted to be held. And Dean wanted to hold her. Was that such a bad thing? This whole year she'd been dying for someone to understand her and try to help her, to accept her and maybe even love her. And here he stood, asking her to stop being so frightened of everyone and let him be a part of her life. Maybe she was blowing things out of proportion, but maybe that was exactly what he was saying and exactly what she wanted. She sighed and shook her head.

"Dean…" she said, almost more to herself than to him. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

He seemed taken aback by the question, and she was too, but she knew as soon as she said it that she wanted to know the answer.

"I…I'm not sure what you mean," he said slowly. "But I guess…" he smiled a little to himself and took a step forward. "I guess I'll just have to show you."

She had just long enough to realize what he was doing and to start panicking about it before his kissed her full on the mouth. It wasn't an extravagant kiss, which was good because she stood there stiff as a board, her mind frantically trying to scramble for the proper reaction. They weren't touching, aside from their lips, and she could feel the awkwardness of trying something new coming from Dean as much as from her. But at the same time, her heart was pounding and her body was trembling, her breathing coming much shallower than she was used to. In fact, for a moment she stopped breathing all together until he pulled away, blushing and grinning like he didn't know how to feel.

"You get the picture?" he asked softly.

For a second, she couldn't think of a response, but then, as if it made perfect sense, she stepped forward into his arms and hugged him. Without hesitation, his arms wrapped around her, holding her safely in his embrace, and she knew that this was what she wanted. For the first time in a long time she felt normal, like any other girl. And that was all she wanted to be.

XXX

They walked back to the common room hand in hand. It felt strange, holding his hand, but also like it fit. His hand was so much bigger than hers that it almost engulfed hers entirely. But it made her feel safe somehow.

She was grateful that they didn't run into anybody on their way back to the common room. While she was happy about what had happened, she also felt protective of it, almost embarrassed by it, like it was something that only she and Dean needed to know. Every once in awhile, he would squeeze her hand slightly so that she would look up at him, and he'd smile, making her heart flutter.

When they reached the portrait hole, Dean pulled to a stop a few feet away and Ginny felt this nervous pull in her stomach, knowing what was ahead. He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers, but she pulled away quickly, afraid that someone might come out and see them. She could see the faintest frown creasing his forehead, but the only thing he said was the password and they crawled into the common room single file. Immediately, before Dean could take her hand again, she rushed over to the stairs.

"Ginny," Dean called after her.

She paused for a moment, and then slowly turned to face him. "Yeah?"

"You wanna come down to dinner with me?"

"Oh!" She mentally kicked herself. "Sure. Just, can you give me a minute?"

"Course," he said. He slid his hands into his pockets. She realized he did that a lot and she wondered if that was what made him always look so relaxed.

She turned around and headed up the stairs to her dorm room, shutting the door behind her and leaning her back against it. It was silent in the room and she let it be silent, not even allowing herself to think. She didn't know how she felt at the moment and she didn't want to know. All she was sure of was that her mouth didn't feel like her own anymore. Whether or not she was okay with that or not was yet to be seen. While she seemed to be floating several feet above the ground, she also could feel herself sinking into the floor. It took her a moment to drag herself in front of the mirror.

Ginny had hardly taken any time to look at herself this year; she'd almost been afraid to. While she'd clearly grown up quite a bit, she was also very thin and frail-looking. She'd lost a good bit of weight that year, and it made her appear weak. Unlike her brothers, she wasn't tall and this only added to how small she seemed. Her long red hair tumbled down her shoulders and shone in the soft light from the fireplace. It was her best feature, she thought. Her hair was darker than her brothers', naturally highlighted with brown. She tilted her head slightly to one side, examining her eyes. They were too big, in her mind, brown and deep with thought and, she hated to admit it, sadness. She had a liberal sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose and cheeks, but it wasn't overwhelming. Mostly, she liked her appearance, other than how delicate she seemed. But she couldn't see what Dean could possibly see in her. She wasn't a stunning beauty, as far as she could tell, and she certainly wasn't comparable to his cool composure and dark handsomeness. They must seem like an odd couple.

Finally, irritated with her own shallowness, she pulled herself away from the mirror and headed back downstairs. Dean was waiting for her there and he smiled as she approached. She smiled too; she couldn't help it. He held out his hand for her and they made their way down to the Great Hall.

They sat next to each other on the long Gryffindor bench, leaning close to each other so they could hear over the buzzing of the other students. Ginny laughed more in that conversation than she had in a long time. She smiled and ate a full meal and held Dean's hand under the table when she was done eating while the two of them just talked. They were among the last students to leave, and Ginny didn't even notice the looks that were sent in their direction, not even from her brothers. And, to her amazement, not once did she think of Harry Potter and she certainly didn't notice the dirty look he was shooting in Dean's direction.


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; not the plot, not the setting, not the characters. I'm just making a few changes. You should be able to recognize them. =D

A/N: Hey, could you all do me a favor? In your next review, if you feel comfortable sharing, please just tell me your gender. I want to know what kind of audience this story appeals to. If you don't want to share, don't worry about it, but if you do, I'd love to know who's reading. Thanks again!

Please keep up the reviews people, I know there's so many of you reading who aren't reviewing. Those of you who are, thank you so so so much! I love them all.

I also want to apologize for the long break in writing. I've been really busy lately.

One last note: I just wanted to thank you dhmhtra375 for all of your help and your willingness to look up stuff for me and most importantly your dedication to this story which drives you to internet cafes in order to read. I really value your opinion and your reviews!

Chapter 24

What a relief to finally be taking exams. Ginny had been studying so much for them the entire year that taking them was a signal for the end of the year which now was so welcome she could hardly think of anything else. Not that she was eager to be back to having no way to distract herself from her dreams, but she was looking forward to sleeping in her own bed, walking in her own garden, and talking to her father. The exams represented all of that for her and it made her days seem endlessly long.

Dean was a distraction to a certain extent, which she was grateful for. They spent all of their time outside of class, aside from studying (Ginny insisted that they both spend a couple hours a day studying on their own so they wouldn't be distracted by one another—plus, she found that spending too much time with Dean made her feel smothered and cornered even sometimes), together. It was obvious that people were beginning to notice, especially Ron who was sending them inquisitive looks whenever he saw them together. But, much to Ginny's relief, Dean didn't attempt to hold her hand or kiss her publicly. He seemed to have the same need to keep their relationship as a special thing between the two of them that she did.

Harry, on the other hand, was not so lucky. The shock of Cho Chang's friend Marietta turning in the DA had sent everyone into a very unkind silence towards Cho. This included Harry. Despite the fact that Ginny insisted that she wasn't thrilled about Harry's obvious irritation with Cho, she knew she was. It made her feel somehow guilty, as though she were betraying Dean to be happy that Harry was now soundly single. That didn't stop her from feeling that way, though. She did feel sorry for him; no matter how much she disliked Cho, she wished Harry hadn't been so publicly embarrassed. Everyone knew that he and Cho had been an item, even if only for a little while.

Ginny saw very little of Harry during exams. That wasn't a bad thing, she told herself, but their Occlumency lessons had been put on hold until exams were over and she was feeling the difference. First of all, she felt more exposed when she went to bed, like she was missing the protection of Occlumency altogether by not having lessons. Second, she missed seeing Harry every week, just the two of them. But, she realized, it wasn't the same as it had been at the beginning of the year. At first she needed to see Harry because she was still crazy for him, even after three years of being ignored. Now, she was beginning to hope that they may have the spark of friendship starting, and spending less time with him made that all the more impossible.

Though things seemed to be looking up for Ginny, the rest of the school was in shambles. Umbridge was working overtime to make sure that things were securely under her control. The Twins' escapade had left her looking ridiculous and she was determined to maintain her "good name." The night before, Hagrid had been driven from his home, Umbridge and her Inquisitorial Squad trying to knock him out with stunning spells that had as little effect on him as they would if he were made of metal. Hermione had come and woke Ginny up after the astronomy exam to tell her about what they'd seen. She'd been close to tears when she told Ginny about how Hagrid had run off into the Forbidden Forest and how Professor McGonagall had been shot down by three simultaneous stunning spells. That morning, Professor McGonagall was nowhere to be seen.

Ginny had a lot of time to think about all of these things, usually after her exams. She always finished early, but none of her teachers allowed her to leave once she'd finished so she spent a good deal of time over the course of her exams mulling things over.

XXX

It was stiflingly hot in Professor Flitwick's classroom. The sound of scratching quills was the only noise in room, aside from the occasional cough which seemed like a thunderclap in the still of the exam hall. Ginny was sitting, tapping the end of her quill against her desk, trying to decide whether or not it was worth going over her test _again_ or if she should just turn it in. There were still thirty minutes 'til the end of the exam and she was getting tired of teachers asking her if she was absolutely sure that she was ready to turn her paper in so early. But she'd already looked over her test twice after finishing and she wasn't about to let it just sit on her desk, taunting her. Finally, she lifted her hand into the air. Professor Flitwick stared at her for a long time, as though he'd never seen a student hand a test in before. Then, after he regained his composure, he jumped off his chair and waddled over to take her exam.

"Are you quite sure you're done, Miss Weasley?" he asked pedantically. "Wouldn't you like to go over it one more time?"

"No thanks Professor, I'm done," Ginny insisted, almost pushing the papers off her desk and into Professor Flitwicks outstretched hands.

She watched as her Charms teacher headed back to his desk, muttering to himself. She stifled a yawn. Refusing to look at the clock, knowing it would only depress her, she decided to give herself a moment's rest. Crossing her arms on the table in front of her, she lay her head down on top of them and closed her eyes. _Only for a minute_, she promised herself, but before she'd even finished the thought, she was dreaming.

It started off like a regular dream. Complete nonsense.

_She and Harry were at the Yule Ball together, standing by the wall and watching as Dean and Cho danced together. Both she and Harry were red faced and embarrassed, until finally, he turned to her and took her by the hands, leading her out onto the dance floor. They started to dance, just as clumsily as she and Neville had. He stepped on her feet repeatedly and everyone was laughing at them. She could hear her brother and Hermione chuckling to themselves about how silly she and Harry looked compared to Dean and Cho who were moving like they had been trained to dance their whole lives. Then suddenly, Professor Flitwick was chasing them around the dance floor, shouting at Ginny that she had finished her exam too early and her test could not be graded until she spent the full time on it. She blushed madly, wishing Harry couldn't hear the chaos around them, but when she looked back at him, it wasn't Harry she was dancing with. Tom Riddle's smile was as frightening as it was enticing. He did not step on her feet, nor did he stumble. They were now gliding across the floor more gracefully than anyone else there. She could feel her heart pounding as she struggled to break free of his grasp, but he held her too tightly for her to pull away. They were going to go on dancing forever…_

_Suddenly, everyone began to disappear, one by one, until it was just her and Tom. They continued dancing, but they were no longer in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. She looked around and saw towering shelves above her, each one covered from floor to ceiling with little crystal balls filled with swirling mist. Each came in a different size and color and was labeled with a name and date. As they spun, she could see that the entire room was crammed with one shelf after another; row upon row of them, floor to ceiling. _

_And then, she was no longer dancing. She stumbled as she came to a sudden halt, falling to her knees. Righting herself, she saw a familiar face beside her, but her heart sank when she saw him. It was Sirius. He had been forced onto his knees, his hands were bound behind his back, and his expression was blankly resistant. Ginny followed his gaze and gasped when she saw the Dark Lord sweeping towards them, his wand at the ready._

"_I need that prophesy," Voldemort hissed._

_His mouth twitched as he spoke: "You'll have to kill me."_

No Sirius! _she wanted to shout. But no words left her mouth._

"_Oh, I will," the Dark Lord gloated, turning on Sirius. Never had Ginny been so aware of how worn he looked. His youth had been stolen from him as he'd rotted for years in Azkaban and now here he was, as defiant and stalwart as the day they'd taken him away. "But first, you will fetch it for me." Voldemort spun, his wand arm shooting out like a striking snake as he yelled, "Crucio!"_

No!_ Once again the cry would not leave her lips. She tried to stand, to leap in front of Sirius, but she was held in place by an invisible force. _

"_Crucio!"_

_Sirius grunted in pain, holding back a scream. _

Ginny was not so lucky. She woke with a startled cry, and every head in the room jerked around to stare at her. But she paid them no attention. At that moment only one thing mattered. She had to find Harry.

XXX

Ginny bolted from her chair the minute the bell rang to signal the end of the exam. Even as she heard Professor Flitwick calling after her, she ran out the door and streaked down the corridor, heading for the Great Hall where the OWL Exams were being held. She was going so quickly that she wasn't watching where she was going, and too late she noticed a girl with long, white-blonde hair standing in front of her. She ran straight into Luna and the two of them tumbled over, getting caught in Luna's book bag strap.

"Oof, Luna, I'm sorry," Ginny mumbled, trying to right herself.

"Oh, that's alright," the Ravenclaw said graciously. "Anyone would be excited to get out of exams. I can't say I blame you for running away."

"No, that's not it," Ginny sighed, pulling her ankle out of the book bag strap. "I'm just looking for someone…"

"I can help if you like," Luna offered, her eyes bright with excitement at the idea.

"It's sort of important, Luna…I'm not sure you want to get involved—"

"Why wouldn't I?" she asked, looking as though that was the silliest thing she'd ever heard Ginny say.

The redhead sighed. "I'm serious, Luna. You could get hurt. This is dangerous."

"What's so dangerous about looking for someone?" Luna had managed to stand and she offered Ginny her hand to help her get to her feet. Ginny accepted the help and once they were face to face, Luna fixed Ginny with a very intense stare. "Is it something to do with the DA?"

Ginny was taken aback by how quickly Luna had caught on. She hated herself for it, but it was all too easy to forget sometimes that Luna wasn't as loony as she seemed.

"Yes…sort of…I don't know—"

"Then I want to help," Luna insisted. "I'm part of the DA, too and it's one of the best things that's happened to me in all my time at Hogwarts. Whatever it is, I want to be a part of it."

She couldn't exactly argue with that. Finally, unable to think of anything else to do, she nodded and motioned for Luna to follow her. Then, the two of them took off towards the Great Hall.

They reached the entrance hall as the fifth years began pouring out into it, heading towards the staircase. Fighting through the mass of bodies, Ginny scanned every face she passed. But Harry was nowhere in sight. Eventually she caught sight of Ron and Hermione, standing together by the oak doors of the Great Hall looking nervous. She pushed her way over to them, calling to them as she approached.

"Ginny?" Ron seemed thoroughly confused. "What are you doing here? Exams just barely got out—" He caught sight of Luna and almost rolled his eyes.

"Where's Harry?" she demanded, cutting him off.

The two friends exchanged looks.

"He left part way through the exam, Ginny," Hermione said slowly, obviously dying to know what was on her mind. "We were just about to go looking for him….What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she lied so fast she didn't have time to feel guilty. "I just need to find him. I have to tell him something."

"If it's so important, maybe you should just tell us," suggested Ron sneakily. "We're more likely to see him than you are."

"I can't tell you," she sighed, already spinning around, ready to leave in search of Harry. But she didn't have to. He was rushing over to the three of them, his face etched with worry.

"Harry, are you okay?" Hermione asked as soon as he was in earshot. "You look…awful."

Ginny stepped forward, trying to intercept him, but he stopped in front of her without even glancing at her and, his voice almost trembling as he spoke, he managed one word. "Sirius."

XXX

"Are you sure?" Hermione called after Harry as they rushed up the stairs headed to the Common Room. Harry was running ahead, practically too fast for any of them to keep up, and he hardly even looked over his shoulder when he heard her question.

"I saw it!" he asserted so firmly he was almost shouting. "It was just like with Mr. Weasley. It's the same door I've been dreaming about for months, only I couldn't remember where I'd seen it before. Sirius said Voldemort was after something. Something he didn't have the last time and it's in the Department of Mysteries!" He was jumping two stairs at a time.

"Harry, please just listen!" Hermione had come to a stop, and so did Harry. She sounded close to hysterical being, and Ginny could see the impatience in Harry's stance, but he turned slowly to face them. "What if Voldemort meant for you to see this? If he's only hurting Sirius because he's trying to get to you?"

"What if he is?" Harry demanded, his voice low and urgent. "I'm supposed to just let him die? Hermione, he's the only family I've got left."

"I don't think it's a trick," Ginny spoke up.

For the first time, Harry looked at her.

"Why not?" Ron asked, more calmly than Ginny would have expected.

The four of them were staring at her now, and Ginny could feel her breath catch in her throat. Her mind raced through an endless list of lies in half a second before she caught Harry's eye. His expression was softer than the others, and she could see in his face that he almost already understood what she was saying. She licked her lips nervously.

"You said it was just like last time?" She prayed he would understand. He nodded once. "It was _exactly_ like last time," she murmured.

He didn't say anything, but she could tell he understood.

"What are you talking about, Ginny?" Hermione broke in.

Harry had not broken free of Ginny's gaze and while she held her breath, waiting for him to speak, she knew he wasn't going to tell Hermione the truth.

"Like I said, it was just like when I saw Mr. Weasley attacked. I just know." Harry looked away, towards Hermione, and Ginny allowed herself to breathe.

There was a moment of silence as the words sunk in. Then, Ron raised his head so that he and Harry could exchange a determined look.

"What do we do?" Ron asked quietly.

Not wasting another second, Harry spun on his heel and began racing up the steps once more. "We'll have to use the Floo network," he instructed.

"Umbridge has all the entrances being watched…" Hermione gasped as she tried to keep up.

Ginny let out a little laugh as a thought occurred to her and everyone turned to look at her. "Not all of them."

XXX

Luna raced off to her common room as the four of them bolted up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower. Without even having to be told, they all rushed up to their rooms to change and gather whatever they thought they would need for the upcoming events. Ginny didn't know what to expect. She clumsily pulled off her school robes and slipped into a pair of jeans and a sweater, but otherwise, she had no idea how to prepare. Knowing Harry, he wasn't about to let her and Luna come along, but she was determined that she was going to the Ministry whether he wanted her there or not. She gripped her wand firmly, running through all the spells she'd learned that year from the DA, then, without allowing herself a second thought, she rushed back downstairs.

Harry was the only other person down there; Hermione and Ron were still in their dorms. His head snapped up when he heard her approaching.

"Ginny…you don't have to help you know," he said. Already he was trying to get rid of her.

"I'm coming, Harry. My mind is made up."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "You and Luna can keep watch while we break into Umbridge's office. Make sure no one walks in on us."

Ginny opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off before she could say anything.

"Please, Ginny." He held up his hand, a signal of the finality of his words.

She sighed, but nodded once. They were silent for a moment, and she turned towards the window, hiding her irritation as much as she could.

"Er…Ginny?"

She raised her head to show she was listening.

"What did you see?"

Her eyes stared fixedly out the window, sweeping across the horizon, dominated by the Forbidden Forest. "The same thing you did. It was just like last time."

She could hear him taking a step towards her. Then another. "Are you okay?"

Surprising herself, she looked back over her shoulder at him. "I'm fine. You're the one who shouldn't be."

He shifted his weight awkwardly. "Thanks for your help, Ginny."

She couldn't help but smile. "I'm part of the DA, Harry. This is what we were meant to do."

"Is it?" he asked suddenly, cocking his head to the side and shrugging slightly, honestly looking like he meant it.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"It means…that maybe the DA was meant to be a way to teach people to fight. But I never meant for you guys to actually _have_ to fight anyone." He looked away from her.

"What are you talking about, Harry?" She turned towards him, completely dumbstruck. In frustration she brushed her hair away from her face. "The DA was supposed be—"

"What happened to your hand?" he asked, stepping forward and reaching out to grab it.

"It's nothing," she whispered. Her heart was racing.

"'I will not dispute authority'?"

"It's nothing," she said more firmly, trying to pull her hand away.

"Did Umbridge do this to you?" He held on tightly to her hand, fixing her with a firm stare. "Ginny? You see this is what I was talking about. The DA was never meant to get anyone in trouble—"

"Alright, let's go!" Ron called from up the stairs, jumping down them two at a time. Harry quickly let go of Ginny's hand but he held her gaze, his eyes burning with the intensity of his dislike for Umbridge. He didn't have to say anything for Ginny to know what he was thinking. She looked away, her face warm from having him hold her hand.

Hermione hurried down the stairs behind Ron and the four of them set out for the Umbridge's office. They were silent as they walked. Ginny kept her eyes forward, and even without looking at the others, she could feel the tension in the air and the mix of fear and anxiety. They were afraid, but they were ready. They reached the Defense Against the Dark Arts corridor, meeting Luna at the corner. She didn't say anything by way of a greeting, and neither did they. Immediately, Harry beckoned Ron and Hermione forward and whispered a firm, "Stay here and make sure no one's coming," before disappearing around the corner and heading straight for Umbridge's office.

For a long, silent moment, Luna and Ginny stood at that corner, hearts pounding and minds reeling. Finally, Luna said softly, "Shouldn't one of us go guard the other end of the corridor?"

Ginny nodded robotically. It was a good idea and after a moment of quiet discussion, Ginny headed across to the other side, leaving Luna standing at the corner, humming softly to herself.

The hall was empty, the only sound the echoes of student's conversations and footfalls on the distant stairs and possibly even on different floors above and below. Ginny tried to look natural there, instead of like a beacon that pointed out how obvious it was that some rule breaking was going on in that corridor. She was sure she failed at it. For several quiet minutes, she paced the width of the hall, sure by now that Harry, Hermione, and Ron had left her and Luna there. She fumed inwardly.

"Ginny?"

The voice made her jump.

"Hey, Ginny!"

She turned and saw Neville coming her way, waving at her as he approached. She wanted to tell him to beat it, but she didn't want to hurt his feelings. So quickly she motioned for him to be quiet and he fell into a confused silence as he reached her.

"Is something wrong?" he whispered.

"Not exactly," she said. "I just need you not to shout my name out. I don't want Umbridge knowing we're here."

"We?" he asked softly, looking down slightly as he thought. Ginny mentally kicked herself. "Do you mean…does this have something to do with the DA? Is Harry in trouble?"

Once again, she was caught off guard by how quickly he picked up on the situation, without even being told.

"Sort of," she sighed. "The thing is…Harry doesn't even want Luna and I along for this, he'd be really mad if we got anyone else in trouble."

Neville suddenly had a determined expression on his face. "You're breaking into Umbridge's office, aren't you? You're trying to talk to Dumbledore, aren't you?"

"What? No…I mean, yes." She shook her head, flustered. "We are breaking into Umbridge's office, but we're not trying to contact Dumbledore. We don't even know where he is."

"Then what?" he demanded. Ginny had never seen him so in charge.

She glanced over her shoulder, down the corridor at Umbridge's door. "It has to do with the Order of the Pheonix," she admitted slowly. "I can't tell you everything, but Harry has to get to the Ministry of Magic as soon as possible. We're trying to help him get there."

"Is he taking you with him?" Neville murmured, a strange look in his eye.

"He doesn't want to," Ginny said with a shrug. "But I'm going anyway. I don't care what he says. I want to help and I'm going to."

"I'm coming too," Neville insisted. Ginny bit her tongue.

"Neville…"

"I'm a part of the DA, I want to help. If Harry doesn't want me there, well—"

He didn't have time to finish his sentence. A bolt of red shot past the two of them so quickly they had no idea what had happened. But before Ginny could even aim her wand at her attackers, Neville had pushed her around the corner and out of the way of the next spell, dashing around to join her a second later. They both peeked around the corner to see who it was that was shooting at them and Ginny felt her heart sink when she saw a pale, pointed face matched with white-blond, oiled hair. Gleaming on Malfoy's chest was his Inquisitorial Squad badge. He, Crabbe, and Goyle, were all advancing on Ginny and Neville, wands raised, eyes glinting with excitement.

The fight didn't last long. Neville and Ginny struggled valiantly but they were very quickly outnumbered four to one as the rest of the Inquisitorial Squad showed up, two of which appeared from behind, dragging Luna. Ginny continued to struggle even after Goyle grabbed her by the wrists and shoved her towards Umbridge's office, but he was much bigger than she was and she could feel the circulation being cut off from her hands the more she twisted and turned in his grip. Neville attempted to break free from Draco, but the snobby blonde had his wand jabbed into Neville's neck and Ginny could already see a welt forming there.

"Caught this one, trying to help the Weasley girl," Draco bragged to Umbridge as he shoved Neville into her office behind Ginny. Umbridge paid him no mind as he and the other Slytherins pushed and prodded Ginny, Luna, and Neville into place beside Ron and Hermione. Harry was sitting in a chair opposite Umbridge who stood over him, looking as evil and toad-like as Ginny had ever seen her.

She leaned forward, placing her hands on her knees and, with a falsely disappointed and patronizingly sweet smile, she said, "You were going to Dumbledore, weren't you?"

Honestly confused and looking ever so slightly relieved under his frightened exterior, Harry shook his head. "No."

"Liar!" Umbridge had lost the girlish tone to her voice as she struck Harry across the face with her hand, making a sharp thwacking sound. Ginny flinched.

"You sent for me, Headmistress?"

Ginny didn't know whether to feel relieved or irritated by the drawling voice of her most hated professor. He had swept into the room with perfect silence and stood surveying the already disheveled members of the DA with a look of pleasure.

"Snape, yes!" Umbridge said a little too quickly. "The time has come for answers, whether he wants to give them to me or not." Hermione caught Ginny's eye and they exchanged a nervous moment and they both held their breaths. "Have you brought the Veratasirum?"

Snape took a deep breath as though he knew what he had to say was going to be unpleasant to the would-be headmistress and when he spoke he had the slightest hint of satisfaction in his voice, though Ginny doubted Umbridge could detect it. "I'm afraid you've used up all my stores interrogating students. Unless you wish to poison him, and I assure you I would have the greatest sympathy if you did," he shot Harry a look that made it clear he was completely serious, "I cannot help you."

There was a moment of silence as everyone took a collective breath. Snape inclined his head in Umbridge's direction to excuse himself and turned, leaving her fuming. Suddenly, taking everyone by surprise, Harry turned towards the retreating potions master and shouted after him.

"He's got Padfoot!" Snape looked back at him over his shoulder. They stared at each other, Harry panting and wide-eyed, Snape cool and looking somewhat irritated. "He's got Padfoot at the place where it's hid."

Umbridge leapt at the code conversation. "Padfoot? What is Padfoot? Where what is hidden? What is he talking about, Snape?"

Ginny should have been watching Snape, should have been terrified of what his answer might be. But she couldn't. Instead, her eyes were glued to Harry. She could only see the back of his head, the tip of his shoulders, hunched with stress as he strained to face Snape. His hair stuck up at the back, his shirt bunched up along his shoulders, and she there was such motion in his stillness that he held her captive, watching him with baited breath, hoping that whatever happened he wouldn't break this moment the wrong way and get himself in even more trouble.

"No idea," Snape said softly, raising his eyebrows and catching Harry's eyes in a quick but firm gaze before turning his back on his least favorite student and sliding away.

Harry's shoulders slumped forward with disappointment. Ginny felt her own heart sink as she watched him. Umbridge also seemed put out by Snape's inability to help her, and she took a deep breath to calm herself.

"Very well," she said finally. She twisted her wand in her hands. "You give me no choice, Potter. As this is an issue of Ministry security you leave me with…no alternative." She had her back to him, standing over her desk as though she might collapse on it at any moment. But when she spoke again, her voice was steady. "The Crutiatus curse ought to loosen your tongue."

"It's illegal!" Hermione gasped, looking thoroughly appalled.

Umbridge reached over to a picture of the Minister sitting on her desk which she gently placed face down as she spoke. "What Cornelius doesn't know won't hurt him." Taking a firm grip on her wand, she spun on Harry and lifted her hand threateningly, opening her mouth to speak the curse. Suddenly, she jumped (along with everyone else in the room) when Hermione screamed.

"Tell her, Harry!"

Umbridge shot a glance at Hermione. "Tell me what?"

"Well if you won't tell her where it is," Hermione said slowly, her gaze skittering around to look at all the faces in the room, as though she wasn't sure of what she was doing, "I will."

"Where _what_ is?" Umbridge said impatiently, turning to face Hermione completely.

The brunette sent Ginny a quick, frightened glance, and then looked back at Umbridge. Slowly but firmly she said, "Dumbledore's secret weapon."


	25. Chapter 25

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; not the plot, not the setting, not the characters. I'm just making a few changes. You should be able to recognize them. =D

A/N: Please keep up the reviews people, I know there's so many of you reading who aren't reviewing. Those of you who are, thank you so so so much! I love them all. There are several new people reviewing and I'm soooo grateful for that! Thanks guys, keep it up!

I also want to apologize for the long break in writing. For one, I really want to get this section of the story done right, so it'll take a while. Also, I'm preparing to go to college in just two weeks, so I'm a bit overwhelmed. I will try to update soon. Sorry for how short this chapter is!

Chapter 25

The room was deadly silent. Umbridge had left nearly an hour before, Harry and Hermione standing ahead of her at wandpoint. Ginny had exchanged a silent and frantic look with Hermione as she walked past. It was clear in that moment that the older girl had no idea what she was doing. She was making this up as she went along and while Ginny was usually in favor of instinct, the last thing she wanted was for her friend to dig herself an even deeper hole than the one she was already stuck in. She barely had time to convey that before Hermione turned away, a determined expression on her face. No matter what happened, she was going to make sure Harry got to the Ministry to save Sirius. If that meant lying to Umbridge and praying the toad wouldn't see through it, she'd do it. Something that had always been true about Hermione was her determination. When she was loyal, she would do all in her power for that loyalty; when she was a rule-breaker, she did so with a thoroughness that would have made mob bosses impressed.

The ticking of the clock was the only thing to remind Ginny that time hadn't suddenly frozen, leaving her, the other members of the DA, and the Inquisitorial Squad standing there, exactly the way Umbridge had left them. Occasionally, one of them would send a nervous glance in someone else's direction, hoping to catch their eye and figure out what to do next. More often than not though, it was one of the Slytherins that moved, shifting positions, yawning, or poking one of their prisoners with their wands and snickering evilly. Draco had given up taunting Ron when he'd realized he wasn't going to get much of a reaction out of him. Oddly out of character, Ron was standing there silently, staring fixedly at the window. Ginny could tell he was thinking, but what about, she didn't bother trying to guess. Her own mind was preoccupied.

Her head was filled with the image of Harry sitting there, shoulders hunched, being interrogated, the feel of his hand on hers as he absently ran his finger over the raised skin of her detention scar, the frustration of not knowing why she felt this way when she already had a boyfriend. She was completely preoccupied so that she hardly even noticed Goyle's hand cutting off the circulation in her wrist. It wasn't until Neville kicked her in the foot that she even noticed that Ron was trying to catch her attention. At first she sent Neville a pointed glare, but he ignored it and attempted to nod in Ron's direction without seeming too obvious. Finally, Ginny understood what he was doing and she looked up at her brother. He mouthed something she couldn't make out before Draco gave Ron a good shove.

"What part of 'shut up' did you not understand, Weasley?" the blonde Slytherin asked, poking Ron in the gut with his wand.

"I could ask you the same question," Ron muttered, just loud enough to be heard.

Draco raised his wand threateningly, but Ron just grinned and said, "Besides, all I was trying to say was that I fancy a snack."

"Oh you do, do you?" Draco sneered. "Well, I'm afraid you've forgotten that purebloods don't serve blood traitors. It's the other way around."

"You don't need to serve me, Malfoy, you ruddy git," Ron said, rolling his eyes. "I've got my own. If you'd just ask your trained ape to let go of me, I could get them myself." He nodded in Crabbe's direction, since the large Slytherin boy had him in a half-nelson.

Draco glared at Ron for a second before a grin spread across his face. "Go ahead, Weasel. Have your snack." He waved his hand and Crabbe reluctantly let go of Ron.

For a moment, Ginny watched in confusion as Ron stretched and rubbed the spot on his neck where Crabbe had been choking him. He took his time, until Draco's grin began to turn into a sneer, and then, as deliberately slow as he could manage, he reached into his pocket and retrieved a number of wrapped candies. He started to count them and as he shifted them in his hand, Ginny recognized them at once. The insignia and the colorful wrappers were unmistakable. She could barely keep herself from laughing, and she could see that the same was true for Ron. He carefully selected a Puking Pastel and began to unwrap it at a measured pace.

"It's downright selfish of you to keep those all to yourself," Draco drawled, eying the candies with envy. "I think it's only fair you pace them around."

"You're right," Ron agreed, taking both Ginny and Draco by surprise. But then, much to Draco's irritation, he headed straight for Luna, handed her a candy, and moved on to Neville.

"Not them, you idiot," Draco sighed. He stepped forward and snatched the Nosebleed Nugget from Luna. "Help yourselves, boys," he said to the other Inquisitorial Squaders. They stepped forward greedily, snatching the candies from Neville and Ron.

"No, don't," Ron said half-heartedly.

But it was already too late. The Slytherins all had a piece of Weasley's Wizard Weases candy in their mouths by that time and within moments, the effects began to sink in.

Goyle doubled over, holding back the need to vomit. Draco's nose was pouring out blood like a faucet. The rest were all suffering from various symptoms, but mostly, they were spilling their lunches all over the floor, walls, and furniture. Ginny could just imagine Umbridge's face when she saw the mess that had been left for her. It was a horrible sight. With the Inquisitorial Squad incapacitated, the DA members did not waste a second. They all easily broke free of their captors and, raising their wands, quickly stunned all the Inquisitorial Squad without even the semblance of resistance. For Ginny, however, a stunning spell simply wasn't enough. She'd always been a natural at the Bat-Bogey-Hex, and she put it to good use. Draco looked far worse than the rest by the time she was done. After a moment of shouted spells the sounds of sick students subsided and a momentary silence fell over the room.

"Brilliant, Ron!" Neville said, grinning broadly.

"That really was a stroke of genius," Ginny agreed, surveying their work. Draco was laying with his head resting on Goyle's stomach, still bleeding from his nose all over his cronies' white school shirt. Crabbe was laying on his stomach with his rear end raised in the air. The others were covered in bile, blood, and boils in various degrees. Ginny finally looked up at her brother and the two of them couldn't help but smile broadly at each other. But that quickly faded as she had a moment to think.

"Now what?" she asked.

Ron shrugged. "I suppose we go after Harry and Hermione."

"We don't even know where they went," Neville pointed out.

They had to admit that he had a point, but they weren't about to stand there and wait for the Inquisitorial Squad to wake up, let alone leave Harry and Hermione out there alone with Umbridge. Whoe knew what was going on where they were?

Suddenly Ron spoke up. "I think I _do_ know where they went!" Then, speaking to the air, "Hermione, you're a genius!"

"What? What is it?" the rest of them chorused, following Ron as he rushed out of the room, racing toward the stairs so fast that they could barely keep up.

"Grawp!" Ron shouted over his shoulder.

Luna, Ginny, and Neville exchanged confused glances.

"Who's Grawp?" Ginny demanded.

"Hagrid's half-brother," Ron said, waving his hand as if to dismiss the subject.

"Hagrid's _what_?" Neville stuttered at the same time that Luna cried out, "Oh, good!"

They didn't have time to voice their bewilderment any further for lack of breath. They all rushed down the stairs and out the Great Hall so quickly they sent more than one second year stumbling over themselves to get out of the way.

The grounds were cool and wet for a day in early summer, even in the evening. Their footsteps were muffled in the grass until they almost seemed like a group of phantoms running across the field. They reached the bridge and their footfalls turned to an incessant drumming. Ahead, Ginny could see two figures running in their direction and she felt herself breath easily for the first time in more than an hour when she saw bushy brown hair bouncing up and down and the glint of light reflecting off of glasses. Harry and Hermione slowly came into view, and the two groups of friends pulled to a stop feet from each other.

"How'd you get away?" Hermione called before she'd even stopped running.

"Puking Pastels," Ginny answered, smiling with mingled relief and pleasure at the memory of the Inquisitorial Squad bent double from Fred and George's wonderful inventions. "It wasn't pretty."

"Told them I was hungry and wanted some sweets," Ron continued. "'Course they told me to bugger off and ate the lot themselves."

Hermione tilted her head to one side. "That was clever, Ron," she said with a hint of admiration and more than a little surprise.

He shrugged, grinning. "It's been known to happen."

"It was brilliant," Neville supplied, brushing off Ron's modesty. Then, turning towards Harry he said eagerly, "So, how are we getting to London?"

The others nodded and turned expectantly towards Harry. To Ginny's irritation, he looked cornered, like he wanted to say something and didn't know how. When he spoke, it made her curl her hands into fists.

"Look, it's not like I don't appreciate what you've done, all of you, but…" His eyes scanned the group, falling on Ginny last. He didn't linger on her, but looked quickly away instead as he stepped forward and pushed through them all. "I've gotten you into enough trouble as it is."

His shoulder brushed against hers as he passed, so lightly that she almost wasn't sure it had happened. She turned to watch him leave, too angry to speak. Neville, on the other hand, did not let Harry get away without speaking his mind.

"Dumbledore's Army was supposed to be about doing something real," he accused. Harry slowed and stopped, but didn't turn. "Or was that all just words to you?"

They were all staring at him now. His shoulders were tight and his head was tilted down slightly as he watched the floor for what felt like a long moment, though Ginny knew that it was barely even a second. He turned until he could look at them, though his body was still half turned away, like he was ready to leave at any moment. They were silent.

Ron shifted his weight, almost tentative as he spoke. "Maybe you don't have to do this all by yourself mate," he suggested, and Ginny was surprised by the tone in his voice, almost pleading.

Harry could hear it too. He watched Ron for a long moment, silent as he took in his friend's statement. Then, he looked at each of them individually, his resolve crumbling visibly.

He licked his lips and looked skywards for a second, taking a deep breath. His tone was clearly hesitant and frustrated as he spoke, but Ginny thought she almost heard a hint of relief in the words, though she couldn't be sure. "So how are we going to get to London?" he relented.

He had them there. None of them were old enough to apparate, and even if they could, no one could apparate in and out of Hogwarts. Brooms would be too slow, and they wouldn't have enough. Suddenly, Luna, who had to that point been silent, smiled that ethereal smile of her and said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, "We fly, of course."


	26. Chapter 26

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; not the plot, not the setting, not the characters. I'm just making a few changes. You should be able to recognize them. =D

A/N: Please keep up the reviews people, I know there's so many of you reading who aren't reviewing. Those of you who are, thank you so so so much! I love them all. There are several new people reviewing and I'm soooo grateful for that! Thanks guys, keep it up!

I also want to apologize for the long break in writing. For one, I really want to get this section of the story done right, so it'll take a while. Also, I'm preparing to go to college in just two weeks, so I'm a bit overwhelmed. I will try to update soon. Sorry for how short this chapter is!

Just so you know, I'm changing up the part with the Thestrals a little because 1) I think it makes more sense and 2) it helps me out. Enjoy!

Chapter 26

It took them longer to get to the Thestrals than any of them would have liked, and mounting them was a bit of an issue. Of the six of them, only three of them could even see the winged horses. Luna walked among them, petting them and whispering to them as though it was completely normal. Neville, though he could see the horses, was less than enthusiastic about ridding one. He'd never been good at Quidditch or flying at all, and the Thestrals were much more intimidating than a broomstick. Harry was too preoccupied with other things to be bothered by the creatures, though Ginny could sense he wasn't eager to fly on one. He'd have much rather used a broom.

While Luna mounted easily, everyone else was still too disconcerted by the fact they couldn't see them to even attempt it. Agitated, Harry hastily began pairing them off so that they'd each be with someone that could see the horses. Hermione was paired with Luna, which might not have been the best of ideas, as Hermione's fear of heights and Luna's ease with the Thestrals were such opposites, neither could appreciate the other fully. Neville and Ron were put together which also presented a problem. Neville, still less than comfortable with the creatures, had to help Ron get on the Thestral. And with Ron practically blind, it was an interesting process. Eventually, both pairs managed to mount their horses, leaving Harry and Ginny. She couldn't tell whether this was by accident or design, but she took full advantage of the momentary separation of her and Harry from the group.

"Harry," she said, coming up beside him, next to their Thestral. "Can I ask you something?" Her voice was small. She felt humbled by the power of the beast she was standing next to; she couldn't see it, but she could feel its warmth, hear its breathing. Suddenly, she wished she could see it. It didn't help that her heart was pounding, thinking of being up in the air on something she couldn't see.

Harry didn't answer her at first. "What?" he asked finally.

"Why didn't you want us along?" she said quickly, afraid that if she waited, the words wouldn't come. The question had been nagging at her ever since she'd seen the dream. She'd known, automatically, that Harry wouldn't want her, or any of the others along. But why, she didn't fully understand. And even though she could guess, she'd rather hear it from him.

He turned towards her. "Put your foot here," he said, taking her by surprise.

It took her a moment to understand that he was asking her to climb on the Thestral, so her reaction was extremely delayed. But she obeyed, placing her foot on the tree trunk Harry had indicated. Her breath caught in her throat as he came behind her, placing his hands on her waist to support her.

"Now, lift your wait and place your other foot about two feet in front of you."

She obeyed, haltingly, feeling flustered both by his touch and her reaction to it. Suddenly, her foot touched flesh and she almost pulled it back, wobbling precariously as she tried to comprehend the idea of something stable beneath her that she couldn't see.

"I've got you," Harry assured her, and she could help but blush. "Put your weight on it and let your foot slide." She did as she was told, feeling the side of the animal take shape beneath her. "Do you feel that?" he asked. She bit back a reply; her foot was now hooked near the wing, from what she could tell. "Put your weight on it and push forward until you feel the Thestral with your other foot. Got it?"

She wanted to say no, frozen in place with fear, but he gave her a push and she jumped forward, landing less than gracefully on the animal's back. For a moment, she almost panicked, her mind trying to cope with the fact that she was sitting on something she couldn't see, but Harry was already clambering on in front of her and she had to hold on to him to keep herself from falling. He settled himself completely, then, looking over his shoulder, called to the others.

"Okay, let's go!"

She closed her eyes and grabbed Harry around the waist. His muscles were tense beneath his shirt, stiffening at her touch, but she didn't care. Flying had always come naturally to her, but flying on something invisible…she kept her eyes shut tight as the animal leapt forward, running and buffeting her and Harry with its wings as it raced to take off. It seemed like an eternity before they were in the air, and it was even longer before she was brave enough to open her eyes. At first, she thought she might be sick. But then, as she calmed herself down, she realized the feeling in her stomach wasn't fear, but awe. Her breath was taken away by the sheer majesty of what was beneath her. She could see for what seemed like miles, and the world in all its glory was hers to behold, as though she were a god, looking down at it from Heaven. She allowed herself to breathe for the first time that she was aware of, though she knew she must have somehow drawn breath, despite her terror before.

It took her a moment to recognize that Harry was laughing at her.

"What?" she bellowed, feeling her face flush with embarrassment. The roar of the wind made the words she'd shouted seem lost in the air.

"Scared?" he teased.

"No," she said defensively. And it was true. At that moment, she was more awestruck than frightened.

"Good," he said, shrugging slightly.

The motion loosened her grip on him for a brief moment, and her heart stopped as she held on tighter, trying to calm herself.

"Okay, maybe a little," she admitted as Harry began to laugh at her again.

They didn't speak for a long time, until finally Ginny plucked up the courage and said, "You didn't answer my question."

"What question?" he demanded.

"I asked you why you didn't want us to come."

He was silent for so long that Ginny wondered if he'd heard her. Just as she was about to repeat the question he said, "Hermione's right. Voldemort is probably only threatening Sirius to try and get to me. If that's the case, he doesn't care who he hurts, as long as they're important to me. If any of you got hurt because I let you come along to help…"

She couldn't tell if the words were lost in the wind, or if he'd just let them trail off. Either way, she caught his meaning. She didn't know what to say.

"Ginny, promise me something," he said, so firmly she dare not argue.

She nodded, and though he couldn't see her, she knew he understood.

"Don't let him hurt you. If you think you can get out, then _get out_. Take whoever you can with you. This isn't your fight."

"Yes it is." The words left her mouth before she could stop them. "Harry, this fight is _everyone's_ fight. It's not just you and You-Know-Who. It's everyone who doesn't want him in power fighting to make sure that doesn't happen. Why do you think there's an Order of the Phoenix?"

He didn't answer.

"You can't do everything yourself."

"You know," he said almost too quietly for her to hear, "for someone so hell-bent on doing things yourself, you tend to give a lot of advice about trusting your friends."

She bit her tongue to keep from retorting.

They were almost over London then, and soon the city came into sight. It was impressive to see all the lights strung out beneath them, and Ginny could have watched for hours the night life of the city from above, but they were approaching the Ministry fast. Before long, they had dismounted the Thestrals, some more eagerly than others, and they all stood hesitantly outside of the Ministry telephone booth. Finally, giving Harry a very serious glance, Ginny stepped inside. There was a pause as they others watched her, then Ron followed her example and, eventually, they all crammed into the telephone booth that was the entrance to the Ministry.

As soon as they were inside, they rushed over to the lift and filled in. Harry rammed his thumb into the right button, and as they hurdled downwards, a lady's voice calmly said, "Department of Mysteries" in time for the doors to open onto a corridor of doors.

"This is it," Harry declared firmly.

He walked, determined, down the hall, and everyone followed. Despite how many possible doors there were, Harry seemed to know exactly which one to take. He hesitated only for a moment, then pushed it open. Ginny's heart sank as she saw more and more doors extending in every direction. It was a circular chamber, a door every way you looked. With no time to waist, they started opening one at a time, with little success. One room held a tank full of brains, which kept Ron fascinated for a moment; another was full of clocks, watches, and every means of telling time Ginny had ever heard of.

This room, for some reason, bothered her far more than the one with the brains. There was something about it, something mysterious and uncertain. As they walked, single file, through the room, something caught her eye. In a bubble-shaped glass container, was the most beautiful swan she'd ever seen. A gasp of pleased surprise left her lips and she wandered over to examine it for a moment, falling behind the rest of the group.

"Hey guys," she said softly, spellbound by the swan. "Look at this."

The others turned, and in the time that it took for them to see what she was staring at, the swan had begun to molt, looking more and more disheveled and worn. Suddenly, it began to sway and finally, it fell over, seemingly dead.

"Oh no!" Hermione sighed sadly. Ginny's mouth had fallen open.

"I…" she didn't have time to say more before the bird had completely decomposed, leaving in its place a pure white egg. "What's happening? She said it more to herself than to the others. Her eyes were trained on the bubble, watching in awe as the egg began to crack.

Within seconds, a baby swan had emerged. It stretched its wings and neck, which were steadily becoming much, much larger and whiter. Soon, it was a baby no more. In its place was an adult swan identical to the one that she'd watched die no more than a minute before.

Stumbling backwards, Ginny managed to say, "That's horrible! How could they do that to it?" before Hermione laid a hand on her shoulder, pulling her away. Despite her disgust at the torture this poor creature was undergoing, she could not take her eyes off of the now dying swan.

Once again, they were searching through rooms that were just as strange, but completely different, from the ones they'd been in before. They opened one door that held nothing more than a large archway, a long, tattered tapestry covering it and flapping gently in some nonexistent breeze. Hermione insisted they move on, but Harry stood rooted to the spot, his eyes fixed on the arch.

"Do you hear that?" he asked softly. Then louder, "There are voices coming from behind that arch!"

The rest of the group was silent for a moment, listening. Then, almost tentatively, Hermione stepped forward.

"Harry, there's no one there, it's just an empty archway."

"I hear them too," Luna said dreamily.

Neville, though silent, was also drawn towards the arch. The three of them were walking slowly forward, dazed expressions on their faces, and Ginny could feel her heart beat faster, half curious, half terrified of what it was that they could hear. Softly, as though it were a whisper in the back of her mind, a voice entered her thoughts.

_"Help us…please, please help us."_

She shuddered. She wasn't even sure she'd actually heard the voice, but to her horror it sounded somehow familiar.

"You guys, there's nothing there," she was vaguely aware of hearing Hermione say.

_"I died by your hands…"_

_ "Free us!"_

_ "…in a bathroom. There was a snake…"_

Ginny's heart felt cold. She _did_ know those voices. She'd heard them in her dreams, many, many times.

_"I tried to stop you."_

_ "My wife and son…"_

She began to tremble. The voices were so distant, she had to strain to hear them. It was like they weren't even speaking to her, but to someone else. The thought brought her no comfort because despite it all she could hear them, and she knew who they were speaking to. She knew why they were familiar.

"Please, Harry, let's get out of here!" Hermione was pleading now, sounding genuinely worried.

To her surprise, Ginny realized she had been walking towards the archway. The voices were growing distant though, overwhelmed by a sense of urgency that she couldn't explain, that she knew was not her own. Shuddering and shivering uncontrollably, she knew she needed to turn around. But turning her back on the arch was much harder than she planned. Despite her indescribable desire to get away—far away—from those voices, they were calling to her, holding her captive almost. It took all her will to turn and face Hermione and the others. Slowly, Luna, Neville, and Harry did the same. Without another word, the group raced from the room, slamming the door behind them. Ginny's heart was pounding in her ears and that sense of urgency mounted, feeling alien inside of her.


End file.
